Morro's Path - Corruption
by rideofthevalkyrjur
Summary: After his death, Morro wants nothing more than to simply stop existing. But voices both inside and outside of his head tell him otherwise. Book one of the "Morro's Path" series.
1. Prologue: And Everything Went Still

**Fandom** \- Ninjago

 **Summary** \- After his death, Morro wants nothing more than to simply stop existing. But voices both inside and outside of his head tell him otherwise. Book one of the "Morro's Path" series.

 **Rating** \- T for some disturbing themes (e.g. manipulation, death) and fight scenes. No sex, no swearing.

 **Characters** \- Morro, the Preeminent, Soul Archer, Bansha, other Ghosts

* * *

PROLOGUE

 _AND EVERYTHING WENT STILL_

* * *

The air was heavy down here and hard to breathe, and that icy cold ache in his chest wasn't going away at all. In fact, it was getting worse. The numb feeling was spreading from his chest to the rest of his limbs. But he was so close, he couldn't go back now.

The tomb had to be just ahead. Once he found the tomb, he could find something to prove it, and bring that back to the monastery… show Sensei that he was worthy to wear the green gi. If he did the impossible, maybe destiny would stop fighting against him. Morro was the true green ninja… he knew it, he had to be. He was the best of all of them. That wasn't to say there wasn't a nagging feeling of doubt deep within him, doubt that whispered "What if Sensei is right? What if destiny truly has spoken?"

Morro pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind and continued into the tunnels. His footsteps echoed softly as he walked along the paths, as did scattering stones while he scrambled over rocks. He coughed slightly, reaching to run the arm that was holding the lantern. The cold feeling wasn't leaving, and he was honestly a little bit afraid now. He didn't know how long he'd been walking in the caves, but it was long enough that his feet were tiring. A dull ache had set into his soles, and another cough issued from his throat. Perhaps it would be best to sit down for a while.

His dark green gaze passed around the cavern he was currently walking in and he made his way over to some rocks, sitting down and placing the lantern beside him as he reached to tug his shoes off. It felt nice to feel the air around his toes and he wiggled them a little with a long sigh. He hadn't really rested since he'd stayed a night with Wu's brother Garmadon several days ago. Finally knowing where he could find the tomb… well, he supposed his excitement had powered him. His breath was cut off suddenly by what felt like a knife made of ice stabbing into his chest and he shut his eyes, a hand flying up to grip it. What was that? Shivers ran through his entire body. Was he getting sick?

The pain didn't go away, and Morro finally gripped the neckline of his gi and pulled it down to see his chest. What he saw there surprised him. In the center of his chest, just over where his sternum and heart were, was a green, slightly glowing gash-type mark. Carefully, he placed his thumb over it. The touch sent another stab of pain racing through his body and he couldn't help a small whimper– caused both by pain and uncertainty. That mark had definitely not been there before. What was happening to him?

And then, very suddenly, the flame in his lantern flickered and died. The cavern was plunged into total darkness save for the very slight glow coming from the mark on his chest. He gave a little gasp and quickly wrapped his arms around his chest.

He couldn't see a thing. For the first time since he'd left the monastery on this quest, he was really, truly terrified. What if he couldn't find his way back out? What if he just died down here, lonely and forgotten…

The master of wind got to his feet quickly, holding his arms out in front of him until he found the cave wall. He had to go back, find a way to light his lantern again. Then he could continue his search. When he'd found the tomb, he could go back to Sensei and ask about the strange marking on his chest. It was green, wasn't it? Maybe it meant that destiny had decided to chose him to be the green ninja after all, and the pain was just his body adjusting to the new powers he was gaining. These happy thoughts helped to dispel the still growing fear as he felt his way along the walls. It shouldn't be too hard to find his way back out… he'd followed the same tunnel the whole way, hadn't he?

He couldn't remember exactly how long he'd been in the caves. But it was a fairly long time. Now here he was, underground and alone, in the dark. Morro vowed that he'd never go into another cave like this again alone. In the pitch black he was oblivious to the scared tears that began to form on his cheeks as he tried desperately to reach the entrance, moving at a snail's pace and stumbling often, though he was completely aware of the aching pain in his chest as his heart continued to pound harder and faster by the second.

After what seemed like eons of groping around, he finally felt relief flooding over him as he saw light up ahead. The tears flowed more freely as he left the wall and ran stumbling toward it, in a mad dash to be bathed in sunlight again. His feet scuffed on the ground, and he fell twice, but at last he tumbled through the glowing passage. But once he picked himself up from the ground, he realized he'd been wrong.

The light wasn't coming from the sun, but from a pit in a large chamber beneath him. The air was even heavier in here than outside in the dark passages, and curls of smoke rose from the glowing pit. It's glow was fire red. Morro sat up on his knees and slowly got onto his feet, staring at it with wide eyes. The chamber was hot, and streaked with what looked like burn marks, the ground ashy and dusty. Morro's foot kicked up a small pile, causing him to cough once more, the sound echoing throughout the large, empty chamber along with the ominous gurgling of the pit in the middle.

He approached it slowly, and peered at it from a few feet's distance. It seemed to be a geyser of some sort… or maybe it was a small volcano. Either way, it wasn't good. All of a sudden, the reality of the entire situation hit him. He was stuck here in this chamber, too afraid to go out, and not sure he could even find his way back before dying of hunger, thirst, or exhaustion. But it was either that or this… he didn't know where in the caves he was, how far below-ground. Morro was utterly and completely alone and trapped. Fear like he'd never felt before clutched around his heart, digging its icy fingers in. But he still tried to convince himself that maybe, just maybe, the tomb was in this chamber. And even if it wasn't, maybe searching could reveal a way back to the surface.

He walked the perimeter of the chamber, his steps slow. Each one felt as though it took an hour. Each second, and his head hurt more and his vision darkened. His footsteps sounded like blasts from a cannon rattling his head. Despite the heat of the room, he still felt cold. There was no sign of an exit that he could see. He was trapped in here, alone… he couldn't call for help, couldn't escape.

Morro didn't know exactly when he'd fallen to his knees, but it was about at the point when the cold in his chest became unbearable. His breath came in short pants as he groped for a hand hold and pulled himself up against a rock. Dust was flowing into his lungs with each breath and coughing only made it worse. There was an orange glow from behind his eyelids, which felt heavy as lead. There was a massive gurgling noise, accompanied by hissing, from the middle of the room. Morro coughed again.

I could have been the green ninja, Sensei. This is your fault. You made me believe in myself. Now I'm stuck here… he had stopped feeling a while ago. His limbs had stopped responding. He couldn't move as the orange glare brightened and he finally opened his eyes just enough to see a wall of fire moving toward him. His eyes closed again.

All over Ninjago, a gust of wind blew up for a few seconds, and then it was gone. Everything went utterly still.


	2. Chapter One: Shades and Whispers

CHAPTER ONE

 _SHADES AND WHISPERS_

* * *

Morro went from black nothingness to agonizing pain, and then to black nothingness once more. Slowly, the nothingness began to fade as he awoke—or thought he was waking. He really didn't know for sure. But despite it all, he still felt absolutely nothing at all. Not even a heartbeat in his chest, or the steady stream of air flowing into his lungs as he took a breath. Come to think of it, he wasn't actually _breathing_ in the first place.

At least now he was conscious, though. The boy slowly opened his eyes. Everything was blurry and green, and he felt so... so weird. He just couldn't explain it. It was like he was cold, but he wasn't actually cold. He was nothing. He was completely numb.

He willed his arm to move, and saw a fuzzy outline of it come in front of his face in his still-blurred vision. So he had a body. He could move. Where was he, what was happening?

Morro accomplished the incredible feat of standing up by desperately imagining himself doing so. The numbness in his body was almost unbearable. He didn't know what caused it, or why he couldn't feel anything.

His vision slowly cleared, but his arms still looked weird. So did the rest of his body, actually. It was slightly greenish, and...

Transparent.

He could see through his arms, right down to the sickly grasses beneath his feet, which he could also see through.

He gasped, his eyes widening, and he stepped back, looking around. This wasn't Ninjago. It was a place of nightmares. In the distance, Morro thought he could see some type of massive skeletal, dark structures rising up. Glowing, green forms were floating here and there. Morro startled slightly as he saw some of them beginning to approach, and stumbled behind a large rock.

As they neared, he saw that they too were transparent, and had the forms of humans. No... horror filled him as he suddenly realized what was happening. They were ghosts. _He_ was a ghost. That was why he couldn't feel anything. That was why he could see through himself. He was a ghost. Which meant he was dead.

Morro didn't move for a little while from his hiding place behind the rock, slowly trying to take it in. His memories began to filter back from what had happened. He remembered there was fire, and he couldn't breathe, and he couldn't keep his eyes open. Then he'd lost consciousness, then he was here. Where was 'here' though? What was this place? Was this where you went after you died? If it was, Morro didn't like it. It was dark, and ugly, and seemed sick. It was chilling him—or maybe that was just what it felt like to be incorporeal. Suddenly he realized something. He was dead. He had failed. He hadn't found the tomb. He hadn't been able to prove himself worthy. He'd never be the green ninja.

Even though he couldn't _feel_ things, all of a sudden he realized that his emotions were still very real. Misery washed over him, and he began to cry. There were no tears. Just a choking sound coming from within him as he curled his arms tightly around his legs. He still couldn't feel anything. He couldn't even feel his own body. Morro cried harder. It was the first time in a long while that he'd actually sobbed.

Why had this happened to him? Why had he died? He didn't want to die, he was only a young teen. He hadn't done anything to deserve it... Why had Garmadon sent him into a death trap?

Morro curled over on his side, tucking himself into a little ball as best as he could. He didn't want to feel anything. He didn't want to think. He didn't want to exist. Why was he here in this awful place, why was he a ghost, why couldn't he actually be _dead_ and stay that way and never feel anything ever again, emotionally or physically? He'd had to do one thing, and he failed. He was a failure. He never was meant to be the green ninja.

With thoughts like this racing through his mind, finally, he managed to drive himself into a state of forced unconsciousness, a state of being aware of nothing and feeling no emotions. But even then, he wasn't given rest.

After just a few moments of that blissful nothingness, in which he neither thought nor felt anything, he heard a soft voice. It was a feminine voice, oddly gentle and yet at the same time it scared the boy. It had an odd echo to it, like it was far away, and yet spoken directly in his ear.

 _What is your name, child?_

Morro gasped a little, and opened his eyes, sitting up. He was still behind the rock. Quickly, he looked around. But he saw no one. He swallowed. "Huh-hello?"he whispered.

 _Don't be afraid, I will not harm you._

He squeaked a little. "Who are you... where are you... what do you want," his voice rose in pitch as he stood, turning a circle before stumbling and falling. "Uff!" he grunted. But he didn't need to—he didn't feel himself hitting the ground, save for a slight push on his front as he stopped.

 _I am the ruler of this realm, and I wish to help you._

"I... I don't need help," Morro replied, quivering a little as he wrapped his arms around himself. "Wh-what are you doing... where's your voice coming from?"

 _Inside your head, Morro. I know you've been hurt. Before you came here, you were betrayed. By these men._

Morro's eyes widened. In his mind, he suddenly was forced to remember the faces of Wu, and of his brother, Garmadon. His Sensei and the man that had sent him to his death and ultimately made him come here to this awful place. How had whatever creature this was managed to do that? No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get their faces out of his head. And she had used his name, which he knew he hadn't given her. "I... I didn't tell you my name... what... how do you know... what's going on?" His voice was beginning to grow completely frantic now. If whoever was talking to him was inside his head, he couldn't get away from them. He was trapped. "Please... stop."

 _Don't worry, child. I will wait until you are ready._

The voice faded off. Morro remained where he had been standing, quivering slightly as he took in deep breaths to try to calm himself. Though, it didn't really do anything. He didn't actually need to breathe, it was just a technique Wu had showed him. He wasn't actually _afraid,_ of course. Morro was never afraid. He'd never been scared of anything. He'd only been nervous for brief periods of time, such as when that Grundal was chasing him. No. He wasn't scared now either. He was unnerved. Some being he couldn't see was talking in his head with a voice that seemed to scream danger to the boy. But at least for now, she seemed to be gone.

Morro took one more useless breath and stood. Now he was alone. That didn't give him much comfort, but it gave him one small bit—he wasn't surrounded by a bunch of ghosts that most likely didn't mean well to him at all whatsoever. If he could keep that from happening, he would probably be better off. Slowly, he began to gather his wits about him. He needed to find out about this place, a little more than the fact that it was full of ghosts and that the realm's ruler was a creepy invisible lady that could read minds.

The boy stepped out from behind the rock. He couldn't see any ghosts, which was probably a good thing. Now at least he'd have a chance to look around, and maybe get used to being a ghost. It was a little difficult to control his own body when he couldn't feel anything.

Morro stepped forward slowly and uncertainly, keeping his gaze darting around himself and taking in everything he could. He seemed to be on top of a sort of hill, and passages led off every which way to various sides. He could see the fluorescent green forms of various ghosts down a few, so he chose a passage that he couldn't see any, and yet still seemed open enough so that he could have decent visibility. He made his way toward the passage. One good thing about being a ghost, he decided, was that his feet made no sound on the ground, so he didn't have to worry about noise giving him away. Just the sight of him.

It was this that was the poor boy's downfall. He'd chosen an open passage so he could know that there were no ghosts hiding within it. It was wide and tall, its purplish walls stretching out, so that it would almost be comfortable were this whole place not so horribly creepy. The floor curved up slightly to meet the walls, and the rounded ceiling seemed strung with a pale-green lining that emitted equally sickly green light. But at least it made the passage well-lit.

All Morro had forgotten about was the fact that passages often curved. It was rare that they continued straight onward, and this wasn't one of those rarities by any means. It was a normal tunnel, going on in one direction for a short amount of time and then abruptly turning to go in another. He hadn't thought about this when he'd chosen the large, empty tunnel and made to go exploring.

Still, he felt relatively safe as he let his gaze stray about himself, taking in the morbid and dull hues around him. There really wasn't much here... if this was the afterlife, Morro decided that it seemed especially boring. What could he do here? Especially now, since he was utterly terrified of its other inhabitants. Perhaps if he kept walking, he would come upon a better part of the afterlife. Maybe one which was less ominous and dim and threatening than this one.

But Morro would have no such luck, because as his gaze passed from one wall to the next, he caught sight of a small swarm of bright green coming around the curve in the passage. It was now that he realized his mistake.

In choosing this path, Morro had neglected to give _himself_ anywhere to hide. He looked around the passage, but sure enough, there was nothing at all. Horror filled his expression as he caught sight of the group of ghosts as they fully turned.

"Hey, who's that?" one spoke up.

Morro didn't wait around to see what happened. As fast as he could, he spun around and took off running. His pace was faster than he'd ever remembered while being alive, but it was a little different. He didn't feel wind whipping past his hair as he ran. He was still numb, but shooting forward like a rocket into empty space. Until, still unused to his lack of feeling in his legs, he lost his footing and tumbled forward, rolling onto the ground and skidding to a stop.

"Uhn!" he tried to get back up to his feet, but it was too late. He was surrounded by a swarm of glowing green. A skeletal ghost carrying a scythe floated up in front of him, laughing menacingly.

"Aaah!" Morro yelped, covering his eyes with his arms. The other ghosts surrounding him began to laugh as well. Morro tried to curl in on himself. This was over. They'd hurt him, or kill him again—how did that even work?—or maybe they'd just torture him for fun. Didn't ghosts do that? The sea of green glow began pressing towards him and he scrunched back against the dirt, prepared for the worst.


	3. Chapter Two: Kindness and Curses

CHAPTER TWO

 _KINDNESS AND CURSES_

Morro clutched his knees tightly, his form quivering a little bit. Soon he'd start feeling—pain—of that he was absolutely certain. These ghosts reminded him of the gangs on the streets he'd met as a small child. If he'd had so much as a scrap of food, they'd beat him up over it and leave him lying on the side of the road. No one had ever stopped to help him. Morro wondered what happened if a ghost got killed. He was already dead...

But, surprisingly, he didn't have to worry. A female voice spoke up, but not the same one he'd heard in his head earlier.

"Ghoultar, stop that. Leave the poor kid alone," she snapped, and Morro flinched slightly at the harshness in her voice. Slowly, the boy lifted his head to see that the ghosts surrounding him had backed away, and their skeletal leader was being faced by another, wearing a headscarf and carrying a bladestaff. The weapon's blades looked like they were on fire, but a glowing green flame rather than a red-orange one. Morro watched her with wide eyes.

"Ghoultar was just saying hello to boy," the scythe-wielder sulked, but with a pointed movement of the woman's bladestaff he backed away.

Morro stared up at his savior, his eyes wide, his mouth open just slightly. He meant to thank her, but no words wanted to come to his lips—speaking without breath was something he was unused to. So he took in a breath, preparing to speak, but was cut short.

"Get up, kid," said the ghost woman, as she stored her bladestaff on her back. "Stop sitting on the ground."

Morro startled a little bit, but did as he was told, picking himself up off the ground, though he was still staring at her. "Uhh..." his voice sounded strange, like he was hearing it echo down a long tunnel. "I'm... thank you..."

She gestured with one hand. "No need to thank me," she insisted—it could have been seen as good-natured, but her mannerisms were so brisk and seemingly careless that Morro severely doubted that it was due to simple good-naturedness. More likely she thought that saving him from certain doom was such a trivial thing that she didn't even need to be thanked for it. Of course, that had to be it. She seemed utterly dismissive of him, and probably would end up walking off within a few seconds.

But she stayed—and much to Morro's surprise she was soon joined by another ghost, this one male with a bow on his back. The boy's eyes widened.

"Bansha, who is this?" the male asked, gesturing with one hand at the boy. Morro had to look up at both of them—he was about an inch shorter than the woman, Bansha as the other had called her, and several inches smaller than the man with the bow.

"I'm not really sure, I've never seen him around here," she replied, glancing at Morro. "Would you mind telling us your name, boy?"

Again, Morro made to say something but couldn't find the words, but this time no amount of breath chased it. They caught in his feelingless throat every time and he ended up standing there with his mouth gaping open stupidly, his eyes wide as he just stared between the two of them. He couldn't help wondering what they wanted, why they didn't just leave him after getting that... Ghoultar... to leave him alone.

The man turned to Bansha. "Does he talk?" he asked, a hint of disdain in his voice as he raised his eyebrows. Morro's fists tightened a little bit.

Bansha nodded. "Yes, he does. He spoke to me, before you arrived."

Morro took in a breath. "I... can," he stammered out. "Just... not... used to talking... without being able to feel my tongue."

"Oh, you're really new, then," the man turned to look at him. "Don't worry, boy, you will get used to it. We all have been through the same. My name is Soul Archer, and you have already met Bansha." He gave Morro an expectant look, and the smaller ghost gasped slightly.

"I am Morro," he finally managed, panting a little. It was all so strange. But Soul Archer was right—he felt himself already beginning to get used to the feelings, the certain peculiarities of being actually dead.

"Well, Morro," Soul Archer responded. "You're not the usual sort that we see in this realm. How did you come to arrive here? What heinous deeds did you commit in life, or what great man did you happen to offend?"

Morro raised an eyebrow, tilting his head a little bit. "I don't understand," he responded quietly, confusion in his voice. "What do you mean?" He'd died. Sure, his death was unjust, but unjust deaths happened all the time. He'd seen kids starve to death who hadn't done anything. Dying didn't mean you were a horrible person. It just meant you were dead.

"Nobody comes here unless it's for a reason," Bansha added. "We've all been cursed. So why were you cursed? Usually it was because we did something terrible in life."

Morro's eyes widened. "Terrible? I... I haven't done anything. I just... got killed... I didn't do anything, I swear. I never hurt anyone."

Alright. Maybe that last one was a little bit of a lie. He had hurt Wu when he'd left, he was pretty sure. But that was just because Wu had hurt him, and Morro was angry. He knew he'd get over it in the end. The poor boy was hopelessly confused... why did these ghosts seem to think he was some sort of horrible person? And then, a single word caught his attention. "Cursed."

Suddenly, Morro remembered the icy feeling that had spread through his body. He remembered the glowing green mark on his chest—a mark that matched the glow of the ghosts' forms. He gasped. "I... I was cursed..." his eyes widened. "A man cursed me... I don't know why. I didn't do anything to him and he'd just been nice to me and said he'd share his camp..." He clenched his fists.

The ghosts watched him oddly. The child seemed so agitated. But if what he said was true—he hadn't done anything to deserve being sent to this realm- it made sense. They looked at one another, and Bansha gave Soul Archer a nod. They approached the distressed, smaller ghost boy.

"Come along with us, Morro," Soul Archer told him, resting a ghostly hand on the boy's shoulder. Morro flinched slightly, turning to look at him and blinking, suddenly wincing as he felt his face stinging. He knew that normal tears stung, but this... this was different. It was an awful burning sensation. When he brought his arm up to wipe it away, he just burned his arm.

"Ow!" he yelped, pulling away from Soul Archer. The pain only made more tears come, which only worsened it. The older ghost sighed.

"You need to stop crying," he said, almost gently. "Water and other liquids are deadly to us in large enough amounts, but painful in small amounts. Unfortunately, we are somehow still able to shed tears, which happen to be at least partially liquid. It will heal itself fairly quickly, but only if you stop crying."

Morro blinked rapidly. So, he couldn't feel things normally, but he could feel pain? Figures. That sort of thing always happened. His entire life had been fairly unfortunate. Destiny... it was a funny thing. And it seemed to have a personal hatred for Morro. The small ghost blinked again, trying to get the burning sensation to dissipate without letting any more tears fall. He briefly wondered why he was shedding tears now but hadn't earlier, before he simply let that thought slip away. There were other things to worry about. More painful things. Like the fact that he was a ghost in the first place.

"What... where am I really?" he asked the other two ghosts as he followed them.

"You don't know? You can't tell?" Bansha asked, raising her eyebrow. Morro shook his head in response. "You're in the Cursed Realm," she said. "It's one of the three dead realms. There's the Departed Realm, where most souls go, the Underworld for dishonoured warriors, and then here. This is where all the ones people just want to get rid of for some reason or another go. And it's pretty effective. Nobody has ever gotten out of here."

Morro's brows knit together, the distressed expression on his face becoming more agitated by the minute. "Cursed Realm?" he asked. "So... you mean I'm a prisoner here?"

"We all are," Soul Archer told him. "We make the best of it, though... maybe someday we will find a way to be free. Until then, well, you will see. Come with us. Don't worry, you'll get used to being here."

Morro shut his eyes and looked away. He was a ghost, he was dead, he had failed, and what's more, he was trapped here in this horrible afterlife forever. There was nothing to make the best of. But still, he didn't have any reason not to come along with the older ghosts.

He followed them down the passages in silence, watching the other ghosts with a bit of nervousness as they floated past. Morro glanced down. "Why do I still have my feet?" he asked suddenly.

"Everyone does," Bansha spoke up. "We simply choose to hover most of the time. It is more effective and less work."

"Oh," Morro responded. Once again he fell silent.

The scenery of the Cursed Realm seemed all the same—dark greens, purples and blacks, lit by a sickly hue from the walls and ceilings. There were odd lumps here and there, and passages every which way. Finally, they came to a large bridge. On either side were pits leading into seemingly nothingness. Morro swallowed. This was even creepier. Dark, green-black moss-like things hung down from the ceiling, almost brushing Morro's head. The more that the boy saw of this place, the less he liked it. And then, just across the bridge, a massive structure loomed ominously above them, a shapeless mass with numerous tiny openings all glowing with that same green light.

"What's that?" he asked quietly, pointing.

"That is where most of us ghosts live," Soul Archer told him. "Our homes are here, and so is the food. Some ghosts are trying to figure out how to make a drink too, but they always end up respawning. They haven't succeeded yet."

"Respawning?"Morro tilted his head.

"When a ghost dies, they will be sent back to the place in the Cursed Realm where they originally came from. That is why we can kill one another without any consequences. No one ever leaves, after all."

Morro shivered again at that sentiment. He couldn't believe he was trapped here. It was the last thing he'd ever wanted.

"What... what are we doing here?" he asked.

"You can stay with us," the archer continued, "We have a camp a bit away from the crowd. I'm sure you would feel better without being around all of these ghosts, at least until you settle in."

Soon, the three of them arrived at the place that the archer had mentioned. It was a fairly large, tent-like structure made of those odd black sticks and covered with the green moss. Bansha gestured, and Morro stepped inside. It seemed bigger inside than outside, with several divided areas, something resembling each a sitting area and a kitchen, and two bedrooms.

"You can sleep out here," Bansha pointed to what looked like this realm's equivalent of a couch. "I'll go get some food. Ghosts need to eat too, though not as much as humans. Otherwise, we get weaker. We cannot starve, but it feels nicer being at full strength... or rather, feels less."

The female ghost left, and Morro sat down on the couch. It was squishy, but he couldn't really tell if it was comfortable or not. He could feel it, but he was still numb. It could be spiky for all he knew. It wasn't long before Bansha had returned, bringing a plate of food... except it wasn't like any food Morro had seen before. That didn't matter though. Morro had never been a picky eater. He couldn't be, eating from trash bins. He quickly started eating. It was rather surprising, though—Morro just started realizing how hungry he was as he began to eat. Maybe he was finally starting to feel again. That would be good—he couldn't stand the way it was now.

After he finished the platter, he set it on the floor and leaned down on the couch-thing. The two ghosts seemed alright. He was pretty sure they wouldn't try to hurt him. And he felt tired and weakened, probably from being stressed, and from the encounter with the skeletal Ghoultar from earlier. Morro rested his head on the couch and closed his eyes. At least trying to get some rest might be good. Maybe when he got up, he'd feel a little better—or even better, maybe he'd wake up back at the monastery and all of this would have been some horrible dream.


	4. Chapter Three: Promises and Memories

**REVIEWS**

 **FirstFandomFangirl -** Whyyyy would I hurt him like this... hmmm... I dunno... 3

 **TheAmberShadow -** Thanks! I try my best. I really love the character lol.

 **Angel Star Ninja -** They totally were. Poor child was smol and not knowing where he was. Also the dynamic was pretty much inspired by some RP with FFF .

 _ **Akk three reviews on one chapter! I screm. Thank you!**_

CHAPTER THREE

 _PROMISES AND MEMORIES_

The sickeningly gentle voice returned as Morro rested. He should have expected it to—it had said it would wait until he was ready. And whatever that meant was clearly something other than Morro's definition of ready. But this time, it was a little bit different. Instead of speaking to him directly, it whispered thoughts into his mind, thoughts that Morro couldn't even tell had come from an outside source at first. It pulled up memories. First, he saw the day Wu had told him he could be the Green Ninja. Then every point in his life where destiny had gone against him. It was like some continuous, horrible dream.

Finally, there it was again, that haunting voice.

 _The world has hurt you greatly, hasn't it, Morro? Destiny has not been your friend. Nor have the people in your life._

Morro startled, but he quickly remembered that there was no way to escape from a voice in his head. This time, he knew she wouldn't leave him be until he finished talking to her.

"What do you want?" he whispered. "What do you want with me? I don't want to be here."

 _Oh, neither do any of my tenants, but neither I nor them can change that. You could change everything._

Morro pulled away. No, not again. He wasn't about to let this... this monster plant hope inside of him that he could amount to anything. Wu had already done that once, and both he and Destiny had decided to betray him. Morro wasn't going to let himself be disappointed again. It was better just to be miserable like this than to have hope—and then be miserable once more. He couldn't stand another disappointment.

The voice in his head gave an amused and slightly comforting laugh. _Oh, you won't need to worry about Destiny interfering. I wish to help you defy it. You, Morro, have great power, more than anyone else in my realm._

What? Defying Destiny? But was it even possible? Morro wasn't sure. He didn't reply. A part of him wanted to believe this voice. But the greater part didn't trust it—he didn't even know who was speaking to him, and whether they actually were interested in helping Morro—or just in helping themselves. Morro swallowed.

"I... how would you defy destiny?" he asked.

He imagined the haunting voice with a smile as it laughed. It was a chilling sound. Morro shuddered slightly.

 _I have my ways. But why tell someone who does not wish to have any part of it?_

"I didn't say I didn't!" Morro responded in a nervous tone. "I just want to know what you want."

 _That will come later. In time all will work out. Just know that I think you are powerful... that you could be destined for great things, if you are willing._

Then it was gone again. Morro groaned inwardly. This time, he'd not wanted her to leave... now she was leaving him in suspense. He had no idea what any of this meant. It was as though this voice was taunting him. But maybe it was just that, taunting him with something that was impossible to attain. Trying to break him again. Sometimes the voice's tone seemed to sound like someone that would do that. No. He wouldn't get his hopes up. That had destroyed him once. He wouldn't let it destroy him again.

At some point during this, his vision cleared and he realized his eyes hadn't been closed at all—that he'd been lying on his back, staring straight up toward the ceiling this entire time. And then he saw two ghosts staring down at him. Morro startled, sitting up quickly and instantly gasping as he was once again hit with the odd sensation of nothing. They backed away a little.

"What... what happened to me?" Morro asked.

"You tell me," Bansha replied. "We came out to check on you and found you staring at the sky with your lips moving, but no sound coming out."

Morro shivered. Whoever that... being... was, they were powerful. Too powerful. Morro was rather afraid of them. He looked between Bansha and Soul Archer. "I'm fine. I don't know what it was," he lied. It was clear that he was no better at lying now that he was a ghost than when he was alive. The two of them looked at one another and then suspiciously at him, but Morro just looked away, sitting up.

"How long was I resting?" he asked. "I can't tell any difference in the light."

"There is no night or day in the Cursed Realm," Bansha said as they turned to walk off. "You were probably resting a few hours, no more."

Slowly, the boy stood. He felt dizzy, still unsteady, still barely used to his new, bodiless state. But he supposed he had to get used to it. Though in a moment he'd sat back down. Why should he even try? He'd failed. There had been one goal to his life, one purpose. He'd died—he'd lost that. What was there to go on for? Why not just remain sitting here forever? He didn't want to get used to this afterlife. He just wished he would stop existing altogether. He didn't want to be able to think, to remember how horribly he failed. Maybe he never was meant to exist in the first place. His parents hadn't wanted him. Wu had wanted him for a while, but Morro knew he hadn't in the end. Or had he? The boy was so confused. He barely remembered some things now, and yet others were so clear...

His hands unconsciously moved to the sides of his head as he curled up on his side, closing his eyes. He needed to shut out his thoughts. They would drive him to madness someday, most likely sooner rather than later.

Luckily for him, Bansha and Soul Archer had already left, or else he would be subject to more questioning about his odd behaviour. But Morro barely thought about that. He was trying his best to stop existing—or, if he couldn't do that, he could at least stop thinking. Stop feeling emotions as well as touch. It almost worked. He began to think about his memories one by one. Once he thought about it for a while, he mentally pushed it away to fly far from his mind. It worked well for a little while, up until he remembered when Wu took him in. Suddenly, the memories came back. He couldn't throw it away. He gave a sniff.

If only none of this had ever happened. If only he had been the green ninja. Wu had thought he would grow to be someone great. Something more than what he was... someone extraordinary. He hadn't. He'd failed Wu, he'd failed himself...

 _You don't know that for certain_.

That voice had returned again, purring into his ear gently. Morro shivered once again, and yet this time he almost welcomed it. The intrusion distracted him from his own thoughts, which were growing increasingly dark. He needed this distraction, perhaps it would keep him from spiralling into madness. But the voice's words seemed utterly absurd.

"What do you mean?" Morro whispered. "I am dead. I cannot return. I'll never be able to finish what I started."

 _Remember, I told you that I am the ruler of this realm. It is I that decides the rules, though some are set in stone._

He gave a slight gasp. "You can bring me back to life?" he whispered. Maybe... maybe if he came back to life he'd be able to finish. He could find the tomb, he could go back to Sensei and become the green ninja. Everything could be just as he wanted it to be... it was almost too much to hope for. Rather, it was.

 _Unfortunately, I have not that power. But I do know how to bend Destiny to my bidding. I can help you to get what you want, but for a price—you must help me as well._

Morro wasn't sure he liked the sound of this. But if it allowed him to defy _Destiny_ , that horrible thing that had stood in his way for his entire life... He swallowed. "What... what is it?"

 _What you seek and what I seek are not very different, Morro, Master of Wind. We both wish to fulfil a quest we have sought for a great amount of time. And it will lead us to the same place, in the end. You seem to think about a certain tomb a great deal._

Hesitantly, the ghost nodded. "Y-yes... the tomb of the first Spinjitzu Master. It's impossible to find, and if I find it... that would have to prove my worth."

 _How very convenient... what I want lies within that tomb as well. It is not impossible to find, if you know how to find it._

Morro couldn't help but feel the slightest bit of hope rising up within him. If this being was offering him the chance to have everything he ever wanted... What could he possibly hesitate about? And yet he did, probably because the being that was offering him this chance was a creepy voice in his head. Or maybe it was due to the fact that he still wasn't sure what all it entailed on his part. "What would you need me to do to help me?" he asked, still whispering.

 _Oh, you misunderstand. You will help me, and in helping me, you will gain everything you have ever desired. I only require that you pledge yourself in my service._

Another shiver at that. Morro swallowed. Naturally, the only way to fulfil his dreams would be to serve someone else. He blinked. "I... I don't think I can do that. I've never served anyone. I don't want to." No reply came to him after he said those words. Morro took a breath and curled his knees against his chest again, lying back on the lumpy couch. He couldn't let this voice control him. Once again, he closed his eyes and tried to forget. But the memories of the voice were haunting him, and the memories of his promise to Wu. How could he go on existing and not take any chance he could find to keep that promise?

Luckily, his thoughts were interrupted by the return of the two ghosts. He had to admit, he was rather glad they'd taken him in. It was better than being alone out here, in this awful place. And maybe they'd help him understand how to exist as a ghost. He still found walking and moving difficult.

"What have you been doing, boy?" Soul Archer asked as he entered, sitting down across from Morro, who sat up.

"I uh... nothing. I just sat here... Soul Archer, who is in charge of this realm?"

"Currently, I lead the ghosts, actually," the ghost said, almost proudly. Morro shook his head, the movement awkward.

"No... it's... she talks in your head."

The archer's eyebrows rose. "The Preeminent has contacted you?" he asked, his sudden surprise completely bewildering to Morro, who simply tilted his head in confusion. "The Preeminent is the ruler of the Cursed Realm. She is the one who named me as general. Though, there really isn't much to the title. It isn't as though we need an army."

"The Preeminent," Morro responded, looking around. "What... what is she like?"

Soul Archer laughed slightly, but didn't give him a straight answer. "I don't think that is something that words can properly describe. But I can tell you one thing for certain—it is to be considered a great honor that she has chosen to speak with you at all."

Morro frowned. It really hadn't given him much of an answer. He wasn't sure if he agreed that a disembodied voice talking in his head was a great honor. Especially when that same voice asked him to pledge his services to it.

He sighed, giving another brief look around the room. It was so dull, so dreary, so dim. Morro despised this place. He wanted to wrap his arms around himself, but he knew that it wouldn't do much good, since he wouldn't be able to feel it anyway.

Both Soul Archer's words and the mysterious voice—the Preeminent, he'd called it—echoed in his mind. Morro thought long and hard as he sat there in unmoving silence. Sure, he didn't want to let himself be bound in service to some unknown entity, but Soul Archer seemed to think it was a good thing. And the alternative was simply to be stuck in this place with no purpose for the rest of eternity. Morro fought with his own thoughts. He could have everything he ever wanted... was there really a need for freedom in that case? Had he even been free when he was Wu's student?

No, no... why was he even thinking like this? What was wrong with him? Again, he gripped the sides of his head. He thought he felt pressure, but he wasn't sure if it was real or if his mind only thought he did.

Morro didn't even notice the wind until a piece of the moss fell from the ceiling and bounced off of him. Then he felt something restraining him—he gave a gasp, and he wind stopped. Bansha was gripping his arm, and he could _feel_ it. His eyes were wide as he stared at her, but she seemed oddly disturbed.

"What are you doing?!" she asked sharply, and now he looked around to see that everything in the odd house had been scattered about. His mouth gaped a little bit. Yes, he lost control of his powers sometimes, but he hadn't, not for years now.

"I-I..." he stammered. "I'm sorry..."

Bansha slammed him against the wall and he tucked his head sideways, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Now, your apology is accepted, but I want to know what's going on with you, and I want you to tell me the truth," she told him firmly.

Morro still trembled just a little. "The Preeminent has been talking to me in my head," he told her, speaking softly.


	5. Chapter Four: Chains and Chances

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CHAPTER FOUR

 _CHAINS AND CHANCES_

 _"_ _The Preeminent has been talking to me in my head."_

For a minute, Bansha seemed to falter as a shocked look appeared on her features. Then she let him go. Morro scrambled to try to keep his footing but failed horribly, stumbling and landing on the ground with a grunt. Bansha caught him by the elbow and pulled him back upright.

"What in all sixteen realms do you mean? Why would the Preeminent be talking to you? You're a child!"

Morro's eyes flashed in indignation. "I don't know why!" he snapped. "All I know is that she is, and she has barely left me alone since I got here!" He stumbled back to the couch, sitting back down, a bit of an angry expression on his face. "She... told me she'd help me defy destiny if I pledged her my services... I don't know what to do."

The female ghost was still shocked, staring at Morro, who realized several moments later that he was glaring at her.

"What?" Bansha asked, finally. "She... Morro, you have no idea what this means. Defying Destiny itself has never been done before. But it could be something far greater than you could ever imagine. It could mean that us ghosts could be freed from the realm, or even more."She stepped back, leaving Morro to properly find his footing.

The younger ghost's lip moved as if he were making an effort to chew it, but was still far too unused to his new form to do so, as was evidenced by the uncertain shifting of his feet as he tried to gather himself properly. "But... she wants me to serve her," he added quietly.

"As we all do already. Soul Archer and I are leaders of this realm, but to be leaders we must be loyal to the realm's ruler," she confirmed, still looking the boy over. "You should take this chance. I wouldn't let it pass, and our master isn't known to be the patient sort. She may choose to withdraw her offer if you delay for too long."Bansha seemed to notice that Morro was hesitating, that he was holding back, and she sighed. "If you don't take this chance, you and everyone else will be stuck here forever, and I'd rather not have a half-grown kid sulking on my couch for eternity," she snapped.

Morro blinked once again and took a step away from the wall. "You... really think it is something I should do?"

Bansha rolled her eyes. "No, I don't. It isn't as though I have been telling you to agree to it for a while now. But first, what was with the wind?"

The boy suddenly brought his semi-transparent hands up, looking over them. "That... I'm an elemental master," he explained. "I have power over the wind. When I'm upset, though, it gets a little out of control. I'm sorry if I damaged anything. I thought I could control it better than that."

"Ah, that explains a good deal," Bansha nodded. "You are young, and I must say you seem rather inexperienced, but you are powerful. I suppose it makes sense that the Preeminent should choose to speak with you, then." She turned, floating over to the kitchen area. "But you did mess up our home, so I want you to fix that. Then, maybe Archer and I will talk about what you should do."

Morro swallowed, nodding. When he looked around, he noticed that the room had been pretty trashed. There were bits of moss everywhere, and the meagre furniture had been shoved around. He left the wall, moving toward one of the biggest piles of moss. Carefully, he moved his hands over it, summoning his powers and whirling it into a vortex before depositing it out the window. He did this with all of the moss before trying to push the furniture back into place. This proved to be a little more difficult, as his new body or rather lack thereof was still very unwieldy. Still, in the end, he managed to fix things up.

Bansha and Soul Archer were talking, and when Morro finished they beckoned him over to them. He sat down at the low table. "So... what do you think?" he asked. While he wanted to pride himself on his independence, he realized that he did seek a mentor, especially after so long with his Sensei.

"I think you would be best doing what she wants," Soul Archer said definitively. "This could be something that would benefit every ghost in the realm. Whatever affects the Preeminent affects us, you understand. If it is something good for her, it will doubtless be good for us as well."

Morro pressed his lips together. "Really?" he asked, hesitantly. "Are you sure? She said she could help me get everything I ever wanted..."

"Then why did you hesitate? Being sworn in service and having power is far better than being alone and weak, isn't it?" Bansha spoke up with narrowed eyes.

"I guess... I guess you're right," he nodded. It made sense. What good would it do to simply have no purpose here forever? When he could be doing something else... he could still become the green ninja! "What do I do? How do I tell her that I've changed my mind?" he asked.

"She will know," Soul Archer responded. "You see, the Preeminent is the Cursed Realm itself. This is why she could speak to you so. She can read your thoughts, and I am certain she knows what you are thinking. Even though you are not speaking with her, she is certainly watching you to see what you are doing. Still, she does have a manifestation inside this realm, if you should like to see her directly." He floated towards Morro, circling the boy a little bit.

Morro swallowed. "I... think that may be best. I'd rather see who I'm giving my allegiance to."

Bansha and the archer looked at one another and nodded. "Come along, then. We will go now."

Morro followed the two of them out, stumbling a few times as he went. He was nervous. He was really nervous. He knew that this would be a change, and he wasn't sure exactly what it meant. The bleak scenery of the Cursed Realm passed by, along with several other ghosts who watched the two warriors and the smaller boy pass along the road. Morro shivered a little. This entire place was so... creepy. He realized that if there was any chance that he could leave it, he'd take it, no matter who he had to swear allegiance to.

Then, once again, there was a soft voice in his head.

 _You have made the right choice, Morro. When you come before me, you will be greatly rewarded—but you should be assured that though my appearance is rather alarming, I only mean well for you._

This only heightened Morro's unease, but he swallowed and simply went on. Time was distorted in this place—he had no idea for how long they had walked before they reached a narrow tunnel. The lights here were dim so that the only light there was came from either end of the tunnel and from their own glowing forms. The tunnel wasn't very long, though. Within a few moments, it opened up into a large chamber. At the other end was... a _being._

There was really no other way to put it, or to describe it—her. Because as soon as he laid eyes upon her, Morro knew that this was the Preeminent, the voice that spoke in his head. He felt disgust coiling into his gut. This... _thing_... was in his head? She had to be one of the ugliest things he'd ever seen.

 _I find that rude, but it is not the first time someone has commented on my appearance in that way... now, go on._

Morro swallowed, staring at the floating, spherical ball of tentacles, with one eye that seemed to be leering at him and pulsating. It was all a dark, sickly greenish purple, but surrounded by the same haunting glow that each of the ghosts was surrounded by. No wonder this entire realm was so creepy, if it was the very body of this creature. He shivered as he suddenly felt sick, shrinking back a little, but Soul Archer's hand on his back stopped him.

"Go, kneel before her and swear your allegiance, boy!" he hissed into Morro's ear. The little ghost swallowed hard and slowly stepped forward, quivering a little as he sank down to his knees, hands in front of him, staring at the ground.

"I... I've come to tell you that I changed my mind. I accept your offer. I will give you my allegiance in return for my destiny to be changed," he whispered hoarsely. Finally, he forced himself to stop trembling. He wasn't afraid! Morro wasn't afraid of anything!

That didn't stop him from flinching as one of the tentacles rested on his shoulder. Morro suddenly felt as though a set of heavy chains had encircled his entire body.

 _And I accept your allegiance. Morro, Master of Wind, you shall be the new supreme general of the realm. Every ghost in the entire Cursed Realm must do your bidding, or face punishment. Your first task is to form this rabble into an army, a formidable fighting force. I will handle Destiny. I will see to it that this man Garmadon's soul replaces yours. And when the time is right, I will tell you when you can escape. Now, go, Supreme General of the Cursed Realm._

Morro's eyes widened as the Preeminent removed her tentacle. Just as soon as the feeling had fallen upon him, the weight of chains was gone. Morro felt something akin to the surge of immeasurable power rush through him and he stood upright, turning to face Bansha and Soul Archer. There was a new sort of determination and fire in his step, and in his eyes. Though his understanding of the true magnitude was minimal, he knew one thing for certain.

"I am now the supreme general of this realm," he stated. "I wish for you to be my helpers."

The two stared at him in shock for a few moments. After all, the boy had just arrived here, and he was young and unlike any other ghost in the realm. Did the Preeminent actually expect him to be able to lead the ghosts? He was practically a child, and certainly didn't seem to have the emotional strength to be a general. What had their master been thinking?

Bansha couldn't help but smirk a tiny bit as a sudden thought came to her. There was one thing that she knew could at least help this whole business settle with her a little better. "Well, supreme general. We will accept, but only if you prove that you have what it takes."

Morro scowled. "The Preeminent seems to think I do. Who are you to doubt her judgement?"

"I don't doubt her judgement, only your fortitude," the blade master whisked her hand. "Come, let's test this new title of yours. Follow me."

Morro was confused. Wasn't he supposed to be leading, not following? He noticed her expression, and saw that she was planning something. A moment later, a slightly annoyed Soul Archer mimicked her expression. Morro scowled. They must have been talking in one another's heads. If only he could do that too... but unfortunately he couldn't. That must be some ghost thing that he hadn't figured out yet. In fact, he really knew nothing about being a ghost except for the fact that he couldn't feel anything. So be it—he had much to learn. But he would figure it all out. Especially now that he was in command of the entire realm.

With one last glance toward the Preeminent, he started walking behind the older ghosts. There was no doubt in his mind that he could handle whatever test they decided to throw at him.


	6. Chapter Five: Tests and Training

CHAPTER FIVE

 _TESTS AND TRAINING_

The three ghosts left the Preeminent's 'throne room,' with Morro making sure he walked between the two of them. Now that he was their superior, he wasn't going to appear as anything less than an equal. It would take a bit of adjusting, but Morro had quickly decided it was a good change.

The Preeminent had already given him something he wanted, and that was to be recognized. To be someone important. Sure, it wasn't the green ninja—that would come later, he was sure—but it was a start. It was more than he'd ever had before. Maybe all of his early worries were for absolutely nothing. Maybe this would be the best thing that had ever happened to him.

He was interrupted from his musings by Bansha's arm crossing his chest and stopping him short.

Morro turned to look at her, seeing nothing besides a tunnel. "What?"

Bansha nodded toward the tunnel. "This is Ghoultar's patrol route," she said simply. "You need to prove that you've got what it takes. Convince him to follow you instead of running and cowering like the first time you met him, and maybe then I'll give you my allegiance." She crossed her arms over her chest, watching Morro closely, and then gave a nod to Soul Archer. The two ghosts floated off, leaving Morro alone in the passage.

The boy pressed his lips together, clenching his fists. Of course they'd do something like this. Well... they'd be in for a surprise. Last time he'd met Ghoultar, he'd been alone, newly come to this realm, and unfamiliar with everything. This time, he'd begun to settle in, and he'd just been named supreme general of the realm. It wouldn't be the same this time.

Morro squared up his shoulders, standing in the middle of the tunnel. It wouldn't be too long before the skeletal ghost appeared with his cronies. If only he knew how to summon weapons like the other ghosts. Maybe he'd figure that out soon. Or he could ask Bansha to help him do that.

Again, he stopped thinking, because the familiar glow became visible. It was the patrol. Morro didn't budge, glaring down the tunnel. This time, he stayed still as Ghoultar and his patrol came up and surrounded him. The skeletal ghost floated in front of him.

"You are alone, little boy," he taunted. "What are you doing out here?"

Instead of shrinking back, Morro straightened up, tilting his chin to look him in the eyes. "I'm coming to talk to you about the way you behaved toward me when I first arrived here," he stated, in a stiff, firm tone.

The ghosts laughed, and Morro's fists clenched. "I'd stop that if I were you," he snapped. "I'm sure you know the Preeminent? The ruler of this realm?"

Ghoultar and his ghosts paused a moment and Morro realized that he'd struck a chord—he'd gone about this the right way. He was winning. Maybe he really did have what it took. He crossed his arms over his chest now, looking at Ghoultar straight in the eye.

"The Preeminent just named me as the realm's supreme general," he stated simply. "So, I am your superior. I have the authority to turn you into one of the lowest ranking members of the army." A smirk decorated his features as he saw the other ghoul hesitating, and realized that he actually _liked_ this. Having this power. For the first time in his life, he was able to make people fear him with a few simple words... and the feeling was exhilarating. He let Ghoultar squirm a little. Then, he tilted his head.

"Of course, I could be a merciful leader and allow you a second chance, given that you did not know of my powers when I first arrived here... and I was rather pathetic." His voice was formal, superior, modelled after what he envisioned an important person's voice to sound like. He'd have to get used to this as well—but he didn't doubt that he'd be able to.

At that offer, Ghoultar offered him a slight bow. "Ghoultar would like this better. Ghoultar apologizes for being rude, General."

Morro grinned triumphantly. "Apology accepted. Don't forget to let everyone know that if they treat me as lesser, they'll be immediately demoted." And with that, he turned and walked out of the circle, looking around for the two that had put him up to this. It was clear he'd passed Bansha's little test with flying colors. After looking about for a bit, he spotted the two ghosts in the distance, watching him, and returned to them.

"So?"he asked. "Do I have what it takes, or don't I?"

Bansha looked at him and at the vanishing patrol. "Hm," she raised an eyebrow. "I guess you have what it takes to stand up for yourself and command people. Sure. You could probably lead. But weren't you tasked with making an army? That's what I'm not so sure about now. Can you even put up a decent fight?" She crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow.

Morro gave a little snort. "Really? I destroyed half of your house, you actually think I can't fight?"

She waved a hand dismissively. "Destructive powers activated by emotions are nothing in a real battle. Sure, you have powers. That's great. But you can't always use them, you know?" Her tone was doubtful as she considered him.

Really, if Morro had decided to think about it, her assumptions would make sense. Morro was little more than a child—depending on the standards, he still was one—and he wasn't exactly tall or buff for his age. Someone who didn't actually know him would be looking at some thin, short boy, who barely looked his age. Though Morro didn't actually know how old he was. That's what came with being abandoned as a young child. Still, though, when she spoke to him as though he didn't know how to fight, he became indignant. Morro himself knew that he'd trained to become a ninja for six years before leaving. He wasn't just some kid. His hands curled into fists at his sides.

"Of course I can fight, and I don't just use my powers," he snapped. "Do you think the Preeminent would have chosen me if I didn't know how to take down my enemies—to actually take them down when I meant to? I don't just have 'emotional powers.' I can do whatever I want with them. And I can fight without them too."

"Calm down, Morro. I mean, you just managed to take a position that Soul Archer held for years without doing a single thing to prove yourself. You just got here. I'm a little sceptical is all. That doesn't happen." She kept her arms crossed, still relaxed and not in the least alarmed by Morro's anger. He doubted she'd ever really see him as more than the kid she'd found being harassed... until he proved to her otherwise. Which he would do, of course.

"Why don't you show me?" Bansha inquired. "It shouldn't be hard."

Morro frowned. "Well, I don't have any weapons, and I'm still getting used to being a ghost," he admitted. "But I will show you."

He lapsed into momentary silence, letting all of his anger dissipate. His confidence wavered just a little as he recalled just how much he had to learn and adjust to. But it didn't waver enough to lessen his newfound pride. He had lost a good portion of his arrogance between his death and his audience with the Preeminent, but as soon as he'd been named general, it all came flooding back in.

He hadn't even had to prove himself to the ruler of this realm to be given the highest position within it. All he had had to do was arrive here, and listen. Thinking on it in this manner, Morro stopped thinking about the Preeminent's alarming appearance, about the dreariness of this realm itself. Instead, he realized that he could finally rejoice—someone had recognized him at last for his true greatness. The Preeminent even believed he would be able to be the green ninja. She had offered it to him by deciding to thwart Destiny.

His triumphant thoughts were interrupted by a light jab to his ribs by the end of Bansha's staff.

"If you're going to be the general of all the ghosts, you should at least know a little bit about being a ghost," she said simply, "Soul Archer and I could teach you. There are a lot of things you are able to do now that you never could have done before. You train the army, and we train you, up until the point where you don't need us anymore. How does that sound?"

Morro tilted his head to the side a little, a relieved expression appearing on his face. "I was hoping you'd offer," he sighed, smiling a bit. "I didn't really know how I would ask."

"No need to now," Soul Archer responded. "But first, I think it would be best to let the rest of the realm know that things will be changing."

Suddenly, Morro paused and glanced around. "Where will I train all of them?" he asked. "This place... it's all made up of these passages. There isn't enough room." It was something he hadn't thought about before, but now that he was thinking about it he realized he'd need a massive amount of space to be training the hundreds—or maybe even thousands—of ghosts that would be in his army.

 _His_ army. That sounded nice.

"You've barely seen any of the Cursed Realm so far," Bansha spoke up. "There are plenty of areas large enough to suit the purpose. And if all else fails, you train in batches. It isn't as though we're pressed for time."

Morro frowned. "But why wouldn't we be?" he asked. His main goal was getting out of this realm, after all. Shouldn't getting out be a priority? He hoped that the Preeminent wouldn't be wasting time, making him spend centuries here even after he'd made the rabble of ghosts into a fighting force of some sort. No, he wanted to get out of the Cursed Realm and to become the Green Ninja as soon as he possibly could. The less time in here, the better.

"Things like this take time. If you want a good army, you'll have to concentrate over a long period of time," she replied with a shrug. "Don't hope for anything too soon, or you may have some slight problems with your army being unprepared. The best armies are those that have spent months in training, even if they haven't been taught yet." She settled her hands on her hips and considered Morro.

"Oh, that makes sense. Will you come with me to find something we can use for my training grounds?" he asked. "I should like to begin as soon as possible."

"Of course," the ghosts nodded. Morro checked a grin. This was getting to be very nice. It seemed that all he needed was the title, and people began to look up to him. This was what he'd wanted, really. He'd wanted so much to be revered and admired, to be someone important. That's what Wu had told him he could be. Morro, the boy without parents, without a home, was now looked up to by an entire realm. Now, if only he could keep it that way.

After the three ghosts had wandered for awhile, he decided that a map of the realm would be in order. There were so many passages and it was all so identical that Morro was certain he would get turned around before long.

"What do you think of this chamber?" Bansha spoke up, gesturing. Morro looked around. It was a large area, wide open, with plenty of room to train an army. There were a few drop-offs and bridges, but no low tunnels or narrow ledges. Morro started going through the area, looking around at it. After a few minutes, he looked up toward Bansha again.

"Yes, this will do perfectly, I think," he said. "If you wouldn't mind gathering as many of the ghosts as you can, I'll stay here and work on figuring out how my powers work here."

The two dipped their heads, and left. Morro walked over to a rock and sat down on it, looking around. Within a few hours, he'd be trying to train an entire army. Just now, he began to finally realize that he really didn't know exactly what he was doing. How could Morro train others when he'd just been being trained himself?

He gave a slight huff and stood back up. It would probably be best if he seemed to be at least partially formidable and in control of his powers. Best start practicing before Bansha and Soul Archer got back with the army.


	7. Chapter Six: Generals and Legions

**REVIEW RESPONSES**

 **FirstFandomFangirl -** Doesn't it fit her though? You haven't even seen her at her worst yet...

 **GLACIER3 -** I'm rude? Because I like to torment my favorite characters? I guess that's a possibility.

 **TheAmberShadow -** Ahh three from you! Thanks! 1) Yeah, kinda like that. He wants to be someone of note most of all, someone special. Remember, this was the street urchin kid, probably never thought he'd amount to anything. 2) He listened. Of course he did. Morro is easily lured by the promises of gaining anything he ever dreamed of. 3) Morro and Kai's motives and goals are very similar. I could easily see Kai going down a path similar to Morro's. Luckily, he didn't. You should want him to do a good job because the ghosts are attacking no matter what and it's good if Morro's happier :).

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CHAPTER SIX

 _GENERALS AND LEGIONS_

Luckily, Morro soon found that his powers worked just about the same in this realm as they did in Ninjago. That, if anything, was a massive relief to him. He was still uncoordinated, his body's responses to his brain's commands being different from what he originally thought they would be. But he was slowly getting used to his new form. Maybe soon he'd be just as coordinated as he always had been before.

In the midst of creating a small cyclone which lifted him several feet off the ground, he caught sight of an approaching cloud of green. Quickly, he dropped to the ground.

His eyes went a little wide as Soul Archer returned with a massive number of ghosts, and Bansha came shortly after him with another company. They poured onto the open area, continuously, like a sea of floating, bright green. Morro backed up, stepping up onto a rock. He'd had no idea that the Cursed Realm was so heavily populated.

As Bansha and Soul Archer got them into the open area and in some form of order, Morro stood on the rock watching. This was a real army, like he'd never seen before.

Finally, the stream cut off. Morro swallowed as the ghosts talked one another, thousands of voices at once rattling on and on. Some argued, while others discussed things in confusion. Morro spotted Ghoultar and his patrol there—good. At least the scythe-wielder knew a bit about fighting. He spotted a few other ghosts that seemed distinct warrior types, and then some that didn't look like fighters at all. There were probably a good number of thieves, common criminals, or perfectly normal people sent here for revenge or something.

He waited for a few minutes, but when the rabble didn't seem to be quieting down, he jumped upright and landed, stretching his arms out as he did and sending a gust of wind rushing over the heads of those gathered. It didn't blow them over, but it did get their attention. Slowly, quiet settled across the crowd.

Morro swallowed and stood straighter. From what he could see, he was still the youngest and one of the smallest ghosts. He had to make a good impression. Mutiny wasn't something he looked forward to.

"My name is Morro, Master of Wind," he announced in as loud and confident of a voice as he could muster. "I've just been named supreme general of the Cursed Realm by the Preeminent. Our master has charged me in turning you into an army." He paused for a few moments, looking out across the ghosts as they began to murmur quietly amongst themselves. Then, he continued. "First, I need to discover which of you have fighting experience, and which do not. I need to know who will need the most training, and who can help me in the training. Anyone who was a warrior of any kind in life, come stand behind this rock. The rest of you, stay where you are."

Slowly there was a shuffle as the ghosts began to divide themselves up, a fair few beginning to move toward him. Good, it seemed that almost half of the ghosts had some experience already. Morro might not be working with complete incompetence. Among those that moved to stand behind him were the three he'd already met, among many others. After the division had finished, he turned in a circle, looking at the two sides. It seemed that almost half had been warriors. That was good, if nothing else. Morro just hoped he'd be able to get them to become a formidable fighting force.

He looked thoughtfully between the two sides. Finally, he announced, "I wish for everyone to form ranks, twenty in each row," to both of them. Once again, there was a shuffle as the ghosts made up a formation. They weren't neat, but it was okay. Now Morro could get a bit of a clearer picture to what he had to work with either way. It was here that he was somewhat at a loss. He'd been trained as a ninja, not as a general, and a ninja force was generally small—maybe ten at the most. Suddenly, the whole idea of leading an army seemed a lot more intimidating.

"Need some help, Supreme General?"

Morro startled a bit at Bansha's voice from behind him and he turned to look at her. "You have experience leading an army of this size?"he asked, daring to sound a little hopeful.

"Yes and no," the female ghost responded. "I have led a small army, but I do know a bit about the larger ones. As does Soul Archer."

Morro pressed his lips together, looking toward the ground, and then back up at her. "Okay. What do you suggest?" he asked, tilting his head to one side.

"You are just one boy," she stated. "For a force this size, you cannot hope to direct them all on your own. A good general has many subordinates that he passes orders to. These captains and lieutenants keep things running smoothly, allowing those of higher ranks to focus on planning and directing everyone where they need to go."

It made sense. Morro knew very little about armies, but what Bansha said seemed to be sound logic. The boy nodded and looked around. "Well, that is a good idea. But who should I choose as my subordinates? I'll have you and Soul Archer, obviously, but this army is still too large for just the three of us."

"Well, Ghoultar, as stupid as he may seem, is actually quite good with the scythe and already a patrol leader, and then there's Wrayth, who you haven't met yet, a chain fighter. If you take the four of us as your direct subordinates, there would be one division for each of the main types of weaponry," Bansha suggested.

Once again, what she was saying made sense. Morro was honestly quite grateful for the help, he was sure he needed it. "Yes, and then I could train some as ninja, like I was trained," he mused, then stepped toward the edge of the rock. "All of you are dismissed, but I want you to come back in about three hours. Except for Bansha, Soul Archer, Ghoultar, and Wrayth."

The ghosts followed his orders and began to disperse, the other three beginning to approach him. Morro hopped off of the rock. "Bansha had a suggestion on how I should structure my army, and the four of you are all involved," he explained, tucking his hands behind his back. "She says you all have skills in weaponry. I'd like you to demonstrate them. Do so however you choose, and I'll watch and make sure you're as prodigious as you claim to be."

He looked between the four of them and then climbed back up onto the rock, sitting there to watch what they would do. Bansha and Ghoultar summoned their weapons and began to spar. Morro rested his chin on his hands and watched them. The technique seemed pretty advanced—Bansha hadn't lied. While Ghoultar's movements seemed more based on strength than form, hers were much more refined and precise, and yet each seemed to balance the other. Morro was definitely impressed. The only thing he'd have to do was get used to Ghoultar's manner of speech.

His attention was distracted from the close-combat fighters by an ear-splitting screech and he quickly spun to look at the other two. Wrayth and Soul Archer had taken up a position across from one another. Wrayth was whirling his chain, and Soul Archer had shot an arrow—that had been the source of the screech as a small ghostlike creature had attached itself to the tip of his arrow. It turned in various directions until it finally struck the blade on the end of Wrayth's chain. Wrayth retaliated by sending the weapon flying toward the archer so that it just about caught him around the waist.

Morro was grinning. They were good, they really were. He was glad of that at least. "That was really impressive," he spoke up finally, hopping back down and walking over to them as they put away their weapons. "Better than I was expecting honestly... I think I'll take Bansha up on her offer. You're clearly competent to help me. When the rest of the ghosts return, we'll divide them based on their weapon preferences and you can train them. I'll have a few that I train myself, as ninja warriors."

The four ghosts nodded, and Morro's smile didn't even begin to fade from his face. Once again, things were looking up and looking better than he'd expected.

He'd have to be smart, at least for awhile. Bansha and Soul Archer seemed to know a lot more about armies and about this realm, so he'd have to listen to them until he learned it all himself. Then he could really be in command, all on his own. He'd always learned quickly. Morro was confident.

The five ghosts spent the next hour discussing plans for running the army, and Morro had to say he was very pleased with the way things were progressing. While he would definitely be playing a vital part, the four generals would do much of the training—since they had concentrated in specific weapons, they would be the best for that job.

When they had finished discussing, Morro looked up to see that the ghosts had begun to return to the area. He glanced at his four new generals. "I'll have you all stand up with me when I address them, alright?" he asked. "Then we'll divide the fighters, and begin to assess the others."

They nodded, and the five of them stepped up onto the rock. This time, silence fell quickly. Morro waited until all of the chatter had died down. Then he took one step forward. "Ghosts of the Cursed Realm, from now on your time for simply sitting here and waiting is over. Today we will begin training, and soon you will be the greatest army in all of the realms. I have here with me my four generals. You will answer to them, and they answer to me, and I answer to the Preeminent."

There were murmurs of approval and heads nodding from the crowd, and Morro's smile returned to his face. This felt so... so _good_. To be in a place of command like this. To be important. Everyone in this entire realm would look up to him—an orphan with no family and not a cent to his name, a disgraced former ninja. And then, someday, he would have the title he had always dreamed of.

"Here are blade-master Bansha, bow-master Soul Archer, scythe-master Ghoultar, and chain-master Wrayth," he gestured to each of the ghosts. "Your weapon specialties will decide which of them you will train with." He looked at each of them, and at Bansha's nod, he continued. "They'll be isolating areas to train—if you know your specialty, seek them out. If you're not sure, choose one. Even if you've never fought before. I'll be watching, and I'll choose a few to form an elite ninja force. You're dismissed to find your training area."

The four generals left, Bansha lingering for a few seconds to give Morro a nod of approval. The younger ghost couldn't contain his grin now—he'd really done it. With just a bit of help, he'd gotten an entire army started. If only Wu could see him now... he'd take back any doubt he'd ever had that Morro could be the green ninja. Maybe that was what the Preeminent meant to do—to show Wu just how strong he was. That he could control an entire army of ghosts—certainly he could be the green ninja.

Now that he was once again alone, he found a nook in a cliff face to sit and watch as the training began.

Once left to his own thoughts, though, Morro suddenly began questioning once more. He was building an army, but for what? Why did the ghosts need to become a fighting force? A frown creased his features. He'd have to find that out somehow. He didn't want to do something horribly wrong, something that he could never undo.


	8. Chapter Seven: Twisted Revenge

**REVIEW RESPONSES**

 **FirstFandomFangirl -** Morro is too gullible and trusts too easily. Also he anger.

 **TheAmberShadow -** Hmm. Not exactly mind-control, but control by fear and manipulation, sure. All questions shall be answered.

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CHAPTER SEVEN

 _TWISTED REVENGE_

Morro made his way through the passages of the Cursed Realm alone this time, for the first time since Bansha and Soul Archer had taken him under their wing. The place was no less dreary and creepy than it had ever been, but Morro was beginning to get used to it, just like he was getting used to his ghostly form.

It had been a few cycles—they didn't have exact days, but the eerie green lights would fade and then brighten, and those were called cycles—since he had first formed his army. Training had begun in earnest. The generals Bansha had recommended were in their element, and Morro... well, he had yet to discover if he was in his. He inspected the training but hadn't yet chosen any students to form his ninja force. He wasn't sure what he was looking for even. This was a little harder than expected.

Because he'd not yet started training his own, Morro had had plenty of time to ponder things, particularly the reason he was creating an army in the first place. That was why he now traversed the realm's passages alone. He had to speak to the Preeminent, but didn't want Bansha with him—the female ghost seemed to have become a protector of Morro, an advisor... the young master of wind almost dared to call her a friend, but he wasn't sure if she reached that level yet. Morro had never had a friend before, after all.

The light was dimming, it was coming to the night cycle again—the moments in time where the ghost army didn't train. It was here they could sleep or take leisure as they willed. The rest of the time was spent in the open training area.

Morro moved fairly quickly—he was tripping over his own feet a lot less. Over the past few cycles he'd gotten a little bit more used to being a ghost, and even developed a sort of phantom-feeling. He could almost feel the ground he was walking on, but it was just a mental illusion, created in combination with his sight. Still, it was better than nothing.

He had much to learn, though—Bansha had said she would teach him, but not until everything had been settled with the army itself. It probably wouldn't take more than a few more cycles, but Morro was never the patient sort. Still, he had no other choice but to wait. And it gave him free time to go about today's errand.

The Preeminent's audience chamber was just ahead, and Morro broke into a slight run. Go in, find the purpose of the army, then leave. His decisions afterward would be based on that. It was a simple plan.

As soon as he'd reached the opening, however, he struck a wall of ghostly energy. With a grunt, he tumbled backwards, eyes widening as he tried to get to his feet. However, he felt his movements slow as a thin strand of ghostly green webbing trailed from his body to the wall of energy. His vision blurred and he stopped trying to stand, sinking back to the ground like a sack of heavy potatoes. Once again he felt something, this time it was his body weakening.

"Wh-what... what's going on?" he asked, his voice wavering a little.

 _You're forgetting that I can read your thoughts, little wind ninja,_ the Preeminent's voice whispered in his head, sing-song and chilling at the same time. _And I don't really like what I see. You have mutinous thoughts, that is... unacceptable, you understand?_

Nervousness raced through Morro as he heard the voice. "I... I only want answers," he muttered weakly, backing away as the energy wall vanished but the Preeminent's manifestation's tentacles crept toward him instead. He tried to move away, to avoid them, but it was no use. He was already weakened and the Preeminent knew that. The tentacles slithered through the stagnant air toward him, wrapping around his body—one around each wrist and ankle, and one around his midsection, creeping up about his throat. There was another brief hum of energy as the tentacles glowed sickly green, and Morro's vision blurred further.

He drifted off into blackness moments later, the world spinning around him as his head tilted to one side. Briefly, he realized that he wished Bansha had come with him.

But he wasn't brought into consciousness, merely a state of limbo. There was an ever present sound, like some massive creature's respiration. Morro tried to move, but couldn't, it was too dark and he wasn't strong enough. _"What did I do wrong?"_ he wasn't sure if he'd spoken or simply thought the question.

 _Nothing,_ came the reply from the Preeminent. _Not yet, anyway. This is merely a demonstration of what I am capable of. Every cursed soul belongs fully to me, Morro. Any one of them I can take at will and rip their very life force away. But only those that have been brought to my realm. The more souls I have control over, the stronger I become. Yours is small, but even draining you to this point makes me feel stronger._

All of a sudden he felt support ripped out from under him and he fell to the floor, the tentacles withdrawing. He grunted a little but didn't try to get up. His head was still spinning and felt horribly weak.

"Wh-why did you do that?" he asked shakily.

 _Oh, like I said, simply to demonstrate my power. Now, what was your question?_

Morro swallowed. "I want to know... w-why you want me to build you an army," he rasped.

There was a low chuckle in the telepathic voice. _To take over Ninjago, to curse the sixteen realms. Why else?_

Shock raced through him. The Preeminent planned on doing _that_? But Morro wanted to be the green ninja—he wanted to protect Ninjago, not destroy it. "Wh... what?" he asked softly. Still weak, he managed to push himself up onto his knees. "But... that's not what I wanted..."

There was an audible, low rumble, and one of the Preeminent's tentacles curled around the back of his neck, caressing his cheek. A shiver ran down his spine and he looked away.

 _You never said it wasn't. And why wouldn't it be? Has Ninjago ever caused you anything but pain and loss? Poor boy... first you were cast off by your family, then by your Sensei... if you showed your face in Ninjago again you would be met with terror. I offer to let you belong. And in the end you will be the most powerful person in all of the realms, and you will have your green gi._

"But... but what good is it if all of Ninjago is destroyed?" Morro asked, shivering a little at the thought.

 _You don't need Ninjago to be the green ninja, do you? And don't you want revenge on all those that hurt you? Wu... Garmadon... the family that abandoned you... the world for its cruelty?_

Morro swallowed hard. As much as he wanted to shake his head and deny it, he couldn't help but see that she told the truth. He wanted revenge on Garmadon... and on Wu. All he'd ever wanted was for his Sensei to be proud of him. And he'd never have that. All he'd ever wanted was to wear the green gi. But he'd never have that. It was all Wu's fault.

 _Of course it is,_ the Preeminent purred into his mind. _If it weren't for what he'd done, you could be having a happy life now._

Morro swallowed. "But... I don't want all of the realms destroyed, and everyone killed..."

 _Why not? Does anyone in those realms care that you're dead? They're probably not even going to come looking for you. No one even knows you exist, no one cares. Don't they deserve to be cursed as well? Then you will rule over them, alongside me, supreme general. Besides... you know what you have sworn._

This final statement was the nail in the coffin. As many arguments against following the Preeminent as Morro had formed faded away as he came to that realization. He'd sworn his fealty. His service was to the Preeminent. He'd already made the pact, he couldn't turn back. Morro had trapped himself in a corner. His nature wasn't one of betrayal. When he'd sworn loyalty, he'd sworn loyalty.

But for a case like this, couldn't he make an exception? His loyalty came with destroying the entire sixteen realms.

"But I... I ca—"

Morro's breath was cut off by a tentacle wrapping tightly around his throat, keeping him from breathing, and thus from speaking.

 _Think about it, in your heart. All those that have ever wronged you, helpless. Defeated. Begging for your mercy. You will hold their lives in your hands. All those that ever mocked you, thought you less than them, will be trampled beneath your feet._ The Preeminent's voice was an alluring hum, contemplative. She was drawing up memories of Morro's childhood on the streets, of the derision directed at him as he'd wandered on his own in search of the tomb...

Morro shut his eyes. It was all too much. The memories, the whisperings, the anger that welled up inside of him whenever he thought about it... No, anger was a weakness, it made one do things they otherwise wouldn't...

And then, there were thoughts conjured up of scores of those that had wronged him suffering for it as trapped ghosts, Garmadon in chains, Wu admitting his wrongs. Morro was horrified to find himself filling with a sense of triumph just at the thoughts themselves.

 _Don't you like this, little ninja? Isn't this what you want?_ The voice was hypnotic and slow and Morro opened his eyes wide. The chamber was a blur of greenish purple and his limbs still refused to respond to his body's commands. Did he? Was he lying to himself telling himself that he didn't want it? But he was a ninja! Ninja never tried to destroy things... unless those things were dangerous or harmful.

 _But what happened to you? They've all hurt you, haven't they? Morro, they deserve this._

He felt his life force being drained once more, and his mind drifting off into blackness again. In his present state of weakness and near delirium, it all was making sense. They'd hurt him, shouldn't they be hurt? Wu thought he'd never amount to anything just because of what his stupid destiny weapons said... why shouldn't Morro show him just how wrong he was? They'd all be sorry when he led an army of ghosts into their realm.

Yes. It was all making sense now. Wu had taught him not to destroy things, but he had also taught him to be the green ninja—he'd been wrong about Destiny, maybe he'd been wrong about more. And of all the people that had ever hurt him, Wu had hurt him the most. There was no reason not to take his realm. To let him suffer a fraction of the amount that Morro had suffered.

 _Yes, exactly. Come, child, you must rest._

Morro had stopped so much as resisting her mental voice, and closed his eyes once more. He was tired—it was probably due to all he'd been doing over the past few cycles. He slipped off into unconsciousness, and the Preeminent set him on the floor. There he lay limp, one hand curled next to his face.

On the training grounds, Bansha looked up, hearing the Preeminent's voice in her own mind.

 _The supreme general and I have had a discussion, and he's rather tired. Would you mind fetching him?_

Bansha gave a nod and left. She found Morro lying on the floor in a heap in the audience chamber. Silently cursing the fact that he should be so impulsive and just leave as he did, Bansha lifted the boy onto one shoulder and carried him out to the tent.


	9. Chapter Eight: A New Purpose

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: No review replies for this chapter :( But I do have a special announcement to make! My long-time writing buddy and I have created a forum in the style of those of the former NaNoWriMo YWP's forums. It is a discussion and casual role-play board targeted towards late middle school, high school, and college-aged young writers. Please check it out at cityofrefuge . jcink . net without the spaces. Currently there are only three members, but three more are possibly joining, maybe four. We're really open to basically anything. If you like to write, like to roleplay, or just like to chat with other weird nerds, please check us out, we're trying hard to get the site of the ground but once it's going it'll really be going. Thanks all!**

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

CHAPTER EIGHT

 _A NEW PURPOSE_

When Morro finally woke up, he barely remembered the circumstances under which he'd fallen asleep. His mind still felt fuzzy, and he was still a little weak, but overall he was feeling better. For a while he lay still, slowly letting his thoughts filter back to him. It didn't happen all at once, just small tendrils of memory returning moment by moment. The curiosity, the Preeminent's display of power... the memories continued to come back.

Once more, anger knotted up within him. He'd been so deceived. Wu had never cared about him. If he had, he'd have tried harder to stop him from going off. He'd stopped caring as soon as his stupid weapons said that Morro wouldn't be the green ninja.

His fists clenched and he sat up.

"How are you?" Bansha asked, a few feet away. "You were out for awhile."

Morro blinked. "I'm fine," he said, his voice cool. "How long was I unresponsive?"

"A few cycles at least," Bansha responded. "What did you do? Your life force was drained."

The younger ghost nodded. Yes, he knew. "I was ignorant," he stated simply. "The Preeminent wished to show me her power. And to set my mind to rights. Now I'm no longer blinded by former attachments."He gave her a determined look. "How is the training going?"

Bansha seemed just the slightest bit put off by his attitude. "Well, I think. What happened, Morro?"

Morro finally stood up, and took a slight breath. "I went to ask why the Preeminent needed an army. When she told me it was to attack Ninjago, I hesitated, but luckily she reminded me that none of them deserve any better." His voice was laced with bitterness, and he glared fiercely at the floor.

His reply seemed to interest the other ghost. "To attack Ninjago?" she asked. "Does that mean that we will leave this realm?"

Morro shrugged one shoulder. "I would assume so," he pointed out. "The Preeminent means to take all of the sixteen realms under her dominion. And I mean to help secure that. In return, I will be both the supreme general of all of the realms, _and_ the green ninja." His lips curved upward into a grin. "I'll have everything I ever wanted and more..."

Bansha took him by the elbow. "Come on, Morro, you must tell the other generals. This news is far greater than you could imagine. Some of us have been in here for hundreds of years, trapped. If you can manage to do whatever our master needs you to, it could change everything. You would have the undying loyalty of every ghost in the realm." She floated out of the tent, bringing Morro with her. The teen only grinned more broadly at this revelation. Who cared what Ninjago thought? He would still be looked up to by a whole realm. Why did it really matter which realm it was?

He followed Bansha out to the training area. There weren't as many ghosts here as there had been that first day—they trained in shifts in order to minimize crowding. The other three generals were working with them, and Morro could hear them giving out pointers and corrections. There was the unmistakable clash of weapons in the air. Morro looked about himself, and couldn't help but be impressed—they were starting to seem more like an army and less like an incoherent rabble of ghosts.

Bansha went to speak to the other generals while Morro waited next to the large rock where they met and discussed things together. Within a few minutes, all four had approached and positioned themselves in a semicircle as Morro sat on the rock's edge.

"Bansha says that you have news?" Wrayth inquired. "What news?"

Morro smiled a bit. "I haven't been around much because I was speaking with the Preeminent," he explained, leaving out the part about how she'd soul-drained him. "She's revealed a portion of her plan—she plans to take over the sixteen realms, starting with Ninjago. All of us will be able to leave this realm and go to any of the others that we wish."

The reactions of the other ghosts were similar to Bansha's—mostly excitement, a little bit of curiosity, and maybe just the tiniest shred of disbelief.

"But how ghosts leave Cursed Realm?" Ghoultar asked in confusion. "We are trapped here forever."

Morro shook his head. "But if all sixteen realms have been taken over, the boundaries will be blurred—we could leave and enter at will, unrestrained. Sure, we have all been cursed, but soon the rest of the realms will be too!"

As he began to piece more and more of the puzzle together, he found less and less wrong with the idea. He was bound in service, but soon he would be virtually free of the curse. His choice would require the destruction of his former world—but it would simply be just revenge for what had happened to him in his life. Maybe they could experience a fraction of the suffering he'd had. He still remembered the betrayal he'd felt when Wu had simply stopped caring about him and had refused to even give him a chance. He remembered how Garmadon had tricked him, hurt him, cursed his soul so that he'd be trapped here forever. Now, though... he had the chance to throw it back in the man's face. If he'd never cursed Morro and sent him to die, his precious Ninjago would never suffer this threat. This was wonderful. Morro would have his revenge. They'd all finally see just what their actions had caused. And he'd be the green ninja, at the end of everything.

He looked between the four ghost generals. "Now, come on. Don't we have some training to do? It could be any day! We have to be ready. The Preeminent will tell me when it's time to prepare for the attack, but until then we need to train as hard as we can. This will be the most strong and terrifying army Ninjago has ever seen!"

A few gusts of wind whipped around him in his excitement, and Morro scowled, quickly quieting them. He supposed he'd have to retrain his powers again, not to start activating for no apparent reason.

The ghosts left the rock and returned to their training, and Morro hopped on top of it. He surveyed what was going on. He felt determination kindling within him, blazing like a warm fire within his cold, unfeeling form. It made him feel stronger. Better. Everything was going to work out perfectly.

Looking over the ghost warriors, he saw some of the ones who had never lifted a weapon before in their lives sparring with the generals. They would be strong. They were learning quickly. Now all Morro could do was watch and wait.

Or, he could train himself. After all, hadn't that been his greatest hobby for about half of his life? Endless training, from morning until night with only a few small breaks for eating. And here in the Cursed Realm, he would need those less. Maybe someday he would meet Wu again. A small chuckle escaped him as he hopped down from the rock and made his way to one of the vacant training dummies. When he met Wu, he'd be able to show his former Sensei just how powerful he really was. Maybe then he'd regret not giving Morro the green gi. Maybe he'd wish that he'd kept Morro on his side, rather than simply discarding him like some used rag.

Anger knotted up within him once more and he balled his hand into a fist, giving a cry of rage and slamming it into the dummy, which instantly flew back, breaking off of its base. Morro blinked twice, giving a glance at the warriors around him for a few seconds before moving to set it up again. Instinctively, he did a brief bit of stretching before standing again. No, fuelling his attacks with anger wouldn't be the most productive. He had to stay calm. Stay focused. Bring his enemies down with a cool head, or else they would bring him down.

He stepped back, considering the dummy once more and then coming at it with a flying kick, flipping over it to strike from behind, viciously attacking and yet this time it wasn't mere strength, but methodical, well-thought-out moves. With each punch, he thought about his new purpose. He thought about how he would be the one to serve out revenge to all those that deserved it, to punish all those that had hurt them, and all those that surrounded them, and their entire realm. He thought of the Cloud Kingdom, one of the other realms, where Destiny was written. That horrible word which had haunted him his entire life, that wicked force that had destroyed everything he tried to build.

They would pay. They would all pay, very dearly. Morro would make sure of that if it was the last thing he did.

Another punch, another kick, another quick uppercut with his hand. Morro was picking up speed, his teeth clenched together, his expression full of rage. He paused for a few moments, taking in a few breaths, calming himself, and then began again.

When he had trained while he was younger, he was fuelled first by a desire to please Wu. Then by his ambition to become the green ninja. And now, it was a result of his newly awakened thirst for vengeance. The pieces were falling into place. The plan was being revealed, and an inaudible voice kept whispering his mind even though he didn't notice it. With every punch and kick, Morro's newest identity began to take shape. He was vengeful. He was bitter. And there was no hint of uncertainty anywhere within him. He knew what he wanted, and he would get it.

The training dummy was soon annihilated, and Morro calmed himself enough to stare at it as it lay mangled on the floor for a few moments. Then, he left that area, ignoring the staring ghosts, and moved to a more secluded place on top of a hill. Clearly, he still had his fighting skills. But did he still have the control of his powers that he once did?

With a wave of his arms, he sucked the air into a spinning vortex, ripping the moss from a few of the black, sickly-looking trees amidst the swampy landscape. It rushed past him in a blur of dark green, even as he placed up a hand to make a wind-shield, blocking any from actually hitting him. The hill was soon covered with clumps of the moss, which Morro whipped up from the ground and flung back towards the swamp.

He clenched and relaxed his fists, and with a slight whistle wind began to blow around and beneath him, raising him up in a small tornado so that he hovered above the ground. Finally, he dropped to the ground, stumbling just a little as he landed on numb feet. He still had his powers. He still had his ninja skills. Now, just to refine them. To get even stronger.

His head was buzzing with energy and excitement, his emotions running high and running wild. Was he happy? Excited? Angry? Upset? Morro didn't know. He didn't care, though. Right now he felt alive, despite knowing he was dead. He had something to go on for. Something to accomplish.

Morro was far too occupied with his training, his powers, and his raging feelings to notice anyone approaching. His gaze was still fixed on the ground and on the swamp. His form wavered a little as the winds died down. Once more, he was pulling them back under his control. It would be hard to retrain his powers to keep them from activating, but he would do it, and he'd do it before he left the Cursed Realm. He would be fully in control, at his full power. Nothing would be able to stand against him.

Morro didn't notice anything was off until it was far too late, and a heavy impact to his back sent him flying forward with a grunt, sprawling and tumbling down the hill into the small valley below.


	10. Chapter Nine: A New Kind of Training

CHAPTER NINE

 _A NEW KIND OF TRAINING_

Morro tumbled down the slope, skidding to a stop at the bottom, and was almost instantly back on his feet, hands at his sides and tightened into fists, prepared for a fight. Who would dare attack him? Supreme general? Wasn't this mutiny?

He paused in confusion when he saw Bansha floating down toward him, and straightened, tilting his head sideways. Had _she_ been the one to attack him? But why? What sense did that make? Morro carefully considered her, watching for any sudden moves. Maybe he couldn't trust people here either, even if they were supposed to be loyal to him.

"What was that for?" he asked, indignantly, narrowing his eyes. "Why did you attack me like that?"

Bansha was unarmed—her staff hung on her back, its blades seemingly retracted, and stopped a little bit away from where Morro was standing, still defensive. For a few seconds, she just watched the other ghost, almost seeming like she was a little bit amused. And then, she gave a shrug of her shoulder.

"I guess I just wanted to see how easy it was to take you by surprise," she replied. "And it was very easy."

Morro glared a bit, but didn't say anything. She was right. He should have been paying more attention to his surroundings. "What do you want?"he asked. "Shouldn't you be training?"

"I dismissed my division early," she told him. "But yes, I should be training. Just training someone a little bit more important. You. Your skills as a warrior are great, and your skills as an elemental master. But you still don't know anything about being a ghost. As a mortal you were strong, but as a ghost you could be even stronger." She approached him before sitting down on a rock. "Sit. Listen."

A frown on his face, Morro obeyed, sitting across from her.

Once he was settled, she began. "Once a ghost gets used to his new form, he can begin to unlock many new abilities. But there are a few that don't even need to be unlocked. First—we are immune to death by anything except for water. That means weapons, falls, or basically anything else. We can be hurt by poisons or elemental powers, but it's impossible to be destroyed by them, and we'll generally heal quickly. Only water and fluids, because things that are fluid are solid for a ghost. If enough water hits us, or if it hits us in certain places, we'll just get sent right back to the Cursed Realm, to the spot where we first arrived. If it's just a little bit, it burns like acid. That's why your tears burned your face. I don't really know how, but for some reason it's like crying is punishable. Second, by nature our bodies are intangible. We have no weight and are not solid. Thus we can't grasp or pick up or even touch anything outside of the Cursed Realm without concentrating on it. The concentration comes later, and it's sort of hard to describe—more of an instinct than anything else. We can go through walls, doors, cell bars, basically anything solid. Even when walking on the ground, it's simply a subconscious hovering—we think we're supposed to be on the ground, so we are. Obviously, the things here are meant for ghosts, so that doesn't apply in the Cursed Realm. If we want to, we can concentrate our energy enough so that our forms become just as solid as any human's." She finished explaining, and looked over at Morro to make sure that the teen was following.

Morro was looking at her with interest. He'd had a basic idea of what it was like to be a ghost, but he hadn't known for sure. Unable to be harmed by anything but water? And with his powers, that could barely be a problem—caution and a quick wind shield could keep him from getting wet. "What about other things?" Morro asked. "I mean, the abilities that I'll have to learn?"

Bansha nodded. "There are two main abilities—possession and summoned weapons. As a ghost, you can take control of anything, both alive and inanimate. Whatever you have possessed will be under your complete control. It involves a merging of energy, and a mental dominance if you're possessing a sentient being. While you're possessing a living person, you're also immune to water and take on many of their attributes, as well as any of your own—but only those that do not come from being a ghost. Summoned weapons..." She paused and pulled her staff out of thin air. It glowed, like green fire on the ends of it. "You can create a weapon of your choice out of thin air, a ghost blade. It's very handy."

As she let the weapon dissipate, Morro grinned. He was realizing more and more that he actually liked being a ghost—there was so much more he could do, and so much less that could hurt him! Maybe his goal of becoming invincible was closer than he thought.

"So, how do I learn these?" he asked.

The female ghost shrugged and stood up. "Practice. All of these abilities are difficult to learn, but I think you could—especially possession. You seem to have enough strength of will to take down the most difficult of opponents and override their own wills."

Morro nodded. "Hopefully," he stated. A part of him almost asked if possession hurt those it was used against, but he shut those thoughts away—who cared if it did? They deserved it anyway, and worse. "What do we do first?"

Bansha whipped out her staff again, blades glowing. "Well, you need to figure out how to make one of these. Your elemental powers are really strong, but I'm sure you've used weapons as well."

Before he could ask what she was doing, she'd lunged at him with her weapon. Morro gasped and ducked out of the way, flipping over her in the air. Bansha gave a slight groan. "No!" she snapped. "You need to fight back. I'm trying to force you to conjure a weapon. No elemental powers, and no evasion! Come on!" She stepped back again to make another strike, lifting her staff.

With a flurry of attacks, Bansha soon drove Morro up one of the sides of the valley. The younger ghost tried his best to listen, to try to make weapons, not to run away, but he failed miserably, darting from side to side to avoid Bansha's swinging blades.

And then, she'd backed him against the wall. There was no more evasion, nowhere to go. Bansha didn't even bother to relent, and swung the blade toward him. Morro gave a cry, expecting pain, and quickly brought his hands up to uselessly block it. But he didn't feel anything.

A few seconds later, Bansha said, "Good job." It was now that Morro realized his eyes were tightly closed and he was barely standing. When he opened them again, he saw that his fists were clenched around the hilts of a pair of ghost katanas with jagged, flaming edges. For a few moments he simply stared. He'd done it, he'd actually conjured the weapons.

Bansha let her staff dissipate, and Morro straightened up, doing the same with his blades. Then he looked back at his hands, tightening them into fists. One good thing about Morro was that he was a fast learner, at least where his abilities were concerned. With little effort this time, he pulled energy from the area around him and the weapons appeared in his hands again. A grin on his face now, eyes still wide, he lifted one of them up and considered it for a few moments, still smiling. "Cool," he muttered, before letting it vanish and looking to Bansha. "So, how was that?"

Bansha gave a brief nod. "I can see why the Preeminent chose you. You pick things up quickly. Is there anything that doesn't come easily to you?" She raised one eyebrow a bit, and Morro shrugged his shoulders.

"Not quite sure. I don't think I've really tried anything that hasn't," he admitted.

"Hm. Maybe modesty," Bansha snorted, rolling her eyes a little. "Still, weapon summoning is just the beginning. We still need to work on possession and taking different forms."

Morro was serious once again and nodded his head. "Alright. So, what do I do for that? Please tell me you won't attack me until I can possess you or something... can a ghost even possess another ghost?"

"Yeah, it's sort of hard though, since the other ghost can simply reverse the possession if they're stronger than you are," Bansha responded, relaxing a little bit. "I think you should focus on taking different forms first. We can take a shadow form, or we can become completely invisible. Both are useful, but you're less powerful while you're completely invisible. Still, if you need to hide you can't really do much better. I'm not sure how to explain it. But invisibility is easier, so let's start with that. Usually it can be unlocked through a sort of inner reflection. Sometimes accidentally, other times on purpose. If you want badly enough to hide, then you may just unlock it instinctively that way."

Once again, a frown creased Morro's expression. This all sounded great, but how was he supposed to just... turn himself invisible? Everything else, there had been a trigger for—from his elemental powers as a child to the ghost blades just now. "So you're telling me that I just have to figure this out?" he asked, and Bansha gave a nod. Morro sighed heavily, moving to sit down on the ground with his legs crossed, taking up a meditative position.

How was he supposed to do this? It didn't make sense... was that really all she could offer him? He didn't even know where to begin this. How did she expect him to figure it out?

He narrowed his closed eyes, frustration clear in his expression. No, this would never work. Being angry at Bansha rather than actually trying to turn invisible would never get him what he needed.

Wind was an invisible force. Morro's own element lacked any sort of visibility, except for what it carried. Air melted and molded to anything, allowed anything at all to cut through it unless manipulated otherwise. Morro was already intangible as a ghost. Maybe if he tried to be more like the wind, he could be invisible too. Lighter... more relaxed... more fluid. He began to take steady, slow breaths. In, out... in, out... Over and over again. A deep calm seemed to begin to settle over him, leaving behind a light buzzing from his rush of emotions. Eventually, the buzzing began to fade as well, and Morro let himself fully relax.

Now all that was left was to become his element. Wind was light, fluid, but strong at the same time. Not weak. Now, he had to focus on the gentle aspect of it. If he did that, he should be able to vanish and become just like the wind. As he focused on becoming light and airy, he began to hover a few inches from the ground, rising a bit. Then he opened his eyes a little bit—and suddenly, he couldn't see his hands. He gave a little gasp, and as soon as the concentration broke he became visible and fell back to the ground. "I did it!" he exclaimed triumphantly.

Bansha was sitting just a little bit away from him, and leaned back against the side of a cliff with a little bit of a smirk on her face. "Yes, you did," she said. "Congratulations. But you still have a long way to go before you master it. But no more—let's move on to possession now. First, you need to have a sense of what you will have to do. So, I'm going to possess you. And you're going to let it happen." She approached him and Morro backed away warily.

"Does it hurt?" he asked suddenly—now he needed to know. He didn't care about those of Ninjago being hurt, but he really would rather not be harmed himself.

"It's unpleasant," Bansha affirmed. "But it won't hurt if you do a few things. First of all, sometimes there's just no way to resist a possession. If your opponent is more powerful than you, there's nothing you can do. If that ever happens, there's just one rule—don't try to resist the possession or fight it. It'll just exhaust you more than it exhausts the other. So. When I take you over, you need to relax everything. Just let it happen, alright? I'll only stay in possession for a few minutes."

Swallowing, Morro watched her and nodded. "Alright, I'll try."

She flew towards him, colliding with his form. The instant he felt another consciousness trying to take over his, he instinctively resisted, only to remember Bansha's words a moment later and relax. With little effort, Morro found himself shoved to the back of his mind, Bansha in control of his body. It was weird, and rather scary. It was just then that he realized he could see Bansha's thoughts.

 _I hope you know I'm reading your mind,_ he tried to say, but found that he wasn't in control of his own mouth anymore either.

"Only what I'm thinking right now," Bansha said in his voice—this was terrifying as well. "It's normal. There's a mental link—the one doing the possessing can see all the thoughts of those they're possessing, and vice versa. So don't think about any secrets while someone's possessing you. I'm going to leave now, just relax."

Once again, Morro tried to relax his mental defences as Bansha pulled away, back into her own form. Morro stumbled, falling forward with a grunt. "I... didn't like that," he admitted.

Bansha nodded. "Yeah. Not many people do. Come on, let's try possessing some of those old trees." She offered a hand, which Morro took, and the two began to head toward the swamp.


	11. Chapter Ten: The Breach in the Wall

**REVIEW RESPONSES**

 **TheAmberShadow -** Welp, here's the final chapter. Epilogue will be coming later tonight, and I'm hoping to at least get started on the sequel, Redemption. Hope all your questions will be answered in here! And thanks! It's coming really slowly. If you want to join up, you still can- even if you don't usually write you can still chat with people haha. I'm just trying to get it on its feet.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

 **CHAPTER TEN**

 _ **THE BREACH IN THE WALL**_

Time didn't pass in the Cursed Realm as it had in Ninjago. It didn't take long for Morro to lose count of the cycles that he had been here, let alone how many days, months, or years. But there was one thing that he did know very well—that it was passing. He could tell by the strengthening of his powers—both elemental and ghostly. It was the only way to know, since here he did not age, nor did anyone around him. Here there were no seasons. Only the dimming and brightening of the dull lights.

He never did end up training a ninja force. The time he would have spent doing that was instead being spent to better himself. Morro trained relentlessly. He spent half a cycle training, and used the other half to eat or rest. Bansha was a good teacher. She was rough—and a good fighter—but she managed to teach him all she knew about his ghost powers. The master of wind quickly excelled in all of them, especially possession. While he had yet to actually possess an unwilling person, some of the ghosts had put up quite the resistance—especially Bansha herself.

Sometimes it took a few tries, but Morro had bent every one of those that he trained with to his will. And yet it still wasn't enough for him. He still trained even harder in his other abilities.

Thus, he passed the time in the Cursed Realm relatively patiently by keeping it full. When he finished training he was often too tired to really think about it, and took advantage of every hour of sleep. While he was awake, he was fuelled by his desire for revenge and an endless ambition to become better. How or why, he didn't care. He just needed to be better—better than anyone else.

And still, there came a point that it had been too long waiting. There wasn't a ghost in the Cursed Realm that could hold a candle to him. The army was trained to become a formidable fighting force. And yet Morro hadn't heard anything from the Preeminent for what must have been years. He still trained, but not as vehemently—he knew he was the best—and the time outside of training was now spent impatiently brooding. He'd been waiting so long. Why was nothing happening?

Along with him, the army began to get impatient. Morro was far more irritable, and tended to either snap at people or draw into his shell to brood in silence. It had to be any day now... and still it seemed like an eternity before Morro finally heard that faint whisper inside of his head again.

He'd been sitting idly on a rock, spinning some moss into a dark green tornado, then summoning a blade to slice through it, when he looked up suddenly. There it was! The Preeminent's voice, not speaking actual words, but still a clear summons.

He jolted upright. The four generals were running a formation drill nearby, and Morro quickly approached them.

"I've just received summons to the audience chamber," he stated, now barely able to contain the excitement and anticipation in his voice. "I think you should make ready for whatever will happen next."

The assembled ghosts were quiet, and then began to whisper amongst one another. Morro saw the generals' eyes light up just as his had, and a smile crept over his face. Yes... it couldn't be long now. Why else would the Preeminent call him if it wasn't to give him that sort of good news?

Morro turned, walking away from them in perfect confidence—he'd long since become in tune with his form, and now didn't even think of the numbness which had been so utterly shocking and inconvenient upon his arrival. So much had changed since he'd first set foot in the Cursed Realm. As he walked past its drab scenery, he looked about him. It still wasn't ideal, but he'd come to accept the terrain and the appearance of the realm. It wasn't so bad here, especially when he had something to look forward to. This was only temporary. And by the sounds of the summons, it was only very temporary.

As he began to head down the tunnel toward the audience chamber, he thought of the last time he had come here. He had changed. He hadn't grown, of course, and his appearance was still the same as it had been. But inside? It was almost as though he'd become a completely different person. Stronger. Better. Less able to be harmed. The training had hardened him. Now no one could hurt him. He was almost invincible now. He was a supreme general. Morro had what he'd always wanted, and all that was left was to gain the green gi. Certainly, he may have sacrificed his humanity, but then... what good was humanity to him anyway? All he needed was his power. His skill. Compassion and kindness never got anyone anywhere. Morro didn't need those.

The dim lights of the audience chamber were just ahead. As he entered and made his way to the center of the room to kneel on the ground once more, he caught a glimpse of his master. He'd forgotten how far from pretty the Preeminent really was. But it wasn't as though that mattered—she was powerful, and willing to share that power. That was all that mattered to Morro. She'd get him out of here, she had already set him onto his path to revenge. Soon it would all be within his grasp.

 _You've grown impatient, little wind ninja,_ her voice was soft in his mind, and Morro remained kneeling, his gaze on the ground. He was trying hard to keep a calm demeanor while inwardly surging with excitement. _No matter—your time for waiting is up._

Yes! This was exactly what Morro had wanted to hear. "What do I do?" the ghost asked, his voice quivering a little bit with anticipation.

 _The thing which I need is the Realm Crystal, which you will wield once you find it, to create a breach between the Cursed Realm and Ninjago to allow me to cross over. It is inside the tomb of the First Spinjitzu Master,_ she instructed him. _I have spoken to the Master Writer of the Cloud Kingdom, and persuaded him to write that the man that cursed you should be brought here. That destiny is to come to be at any moment now, and you must be ready when it does._

Morro swallowed hard, looking up at her and trying to keep from tensing up. "But how do I leave, and how do I find the tomb?"

 _You will know as soon as Garmadon's soul has been given over to me—because you will feel as though a weight has lifted off of you. Never forget your vow, though, Morro. As for the tomb, I know not much of where it may be found, but I know that the key is in his staff. It will be up to you to find it for yourself._

The staff... the one Wu had always carried, it had been his father's, hadn't it? This should be interesting. He'd finally have a chance to see his former master again—and it wouldn't be a happy reunion, not after what Wu had done to him.

Morro looked up at the Preeminent. "I will do your bidding. You've already bent Destiny to your will once, I know you will help me become the green ninja," he stated firmly. "You have my loyalty, master. Don't doubt it—there is no need to doubt my loyalty. Not ever."

What seemed to be a chuckle followed this. _We will see, Morro. Now, prepare yourself. Find the Realm Crystal. Free me from this realm, free every ghost in the Cursed Realm, and you shall have your destiny as you wish it. You will be the Green Ninja, and you will have your revenge on everyone that ever harmed you. As soon as the portal is opened, you must leave the realm. The window is very small, and should you stay here longer your soul will once again be trapped._

Morro swallowed and stood. "Yes, master," he tilted his head, and left the chamber. Any minute now... He would be free. He would see Ninjago again—see color again—see life again. That was almost enough of a reward in itself. But then what followed was far better. Any minute now, the gateway to all Morro had ever dreamed of would be opened, and he would throw himself through it without the slightest hesitation.

If he had thought that waiting for this news had seemed like an eternity, then waiting for the portal to be opened was even longer. Every second that passed was agonizingly slow, like an age had gone by, and he began to worry that he had missed it. But then, Morro felt it—a distinctive lightness spreading through his spirit, almost like he had just cast off chains. It grew from a tiny seed of hope deep within him into a bright light that brought a smile beaming across his features. Now he didn't even need to be told. He closed his eyes, and purely by instinct, he walked across the boundary between the realms in a swirl of purple.

As soon as he'd crossed it, he began to plummet. His eyes flew open, and he saw the ground hurtling toward him. If it had been another day, another place, Morro would have created gusts of wind to stop himself and lower himself gently toward the ground, but today that wasn't going to happen.

What Morro saw made every reflex in his body suddenly weaken tenfold. Beneath him was Ninjago. Full of vibrant colors, the sun shining brightly above, the ocean blue and the jungles green beneath him. The wind whipped by him, and it was almost like he could actually feel it. Finally, Morro crashed into the sea of green and color, hearing the screeching of birds as he landed on the ground—harmlessly. For a moment he lay on the forest floor, looking up at the sky above.

It was blue. The sky was blue. The trees were bright green, not the sickly dark of the Cursed Realm. There were birds and insects and small animals chittering around him. Flowers grew on trees and bushes, blossoming in every color, in so many colors that Morro had almost forgotten.

He stared for several moments. The sounds of the forest filled his ears, sounds of life, sounds of the place he had once called home. Carefully, he sat up and reached toward one of the flowers. His hand passed through it. Closing his eyes and concentrating, he tried again. This time it fit inside his palm. It was a brilliant red, streaked with gold, and seemed to wink back at him. Morro looked around to see rays of sunlight piercing through the dense canopy of the forest with a warm, golden glow.

All around him was light, color, and life. A lump formed in his throat and suddenly, his arms gave way and he collapsed, sobs escaping his throat. His tears burned his cheeks, sending up thin wisps of green smoke, but Morro didn't care now.

He was in Ninjago. He was back where life was.

There was no more waiting. No more being trapped uncertainly within the bleak Cursed Realm. He was here. It was over, and his new life had just begun.

His ears filling with the sounds of the birds and creatures, his nose with so many smells that he'd forgotten, Morro tucked his knees against his chest and leaned against a tree, continuing to sob, a joyful smile on his face.

For just a few moments, he managed to forget everything he had come here for.


	12. Epilogue: Kindling for the Fire

**EPILOGUE**

 _ **KINDLING FOR THE FIRE**_

So much had changed since Morro had last been here. Upon the first sight of the now-massive Ninjago City, he had almost balked. But for now, at least, he chose to go in—after all, he wasn't afraid of anything, and he really was rather curious.

Morro had no idea where he was going, what he was doing. He didn't know what had changed, and he'd gone back to the Monastery only to find that it had been destroyed. So now he came to this city.

The staff was the key, and Wu had the staff. He had to find Wu. But first, he had to find out what was going on. To get some sense of the world that was nothing like he'd left it. He didn't know how long he'd been gone for, and before he hadn't even numbered years.

The ghost moved like a shadow—no, he _was_ a shadow—through the streets of Ninjago City. Even though it was dark, the place was still lit up brightly. Morro stuck to the sides of buildings, occasionally vanishing if he had to pass through a group of pedestrians as he wove through the streets. No one noticed him. Not that he really minded, of course—they'd notice him eventually.

While he walked, he suddenly caught sight of a large building. Pausing for a moment, Morro narrowed his eyes at the sign. He'd learned to read late and never focused on it, and he'd never used the skill in the Cursed Realm, so it was getting a bit rusty. But after a moment, he made out the words—it was a museum. Morro could barely believe his luck—if anything of note had happened, surely he'd be able to find it in here!

He walked toward the doors and paused before slipping through them. There were very few people inside, and those that were seemed to be heading toward the exit. It must have been closing. Morro started to walk around, keeping to the shadows so he wasn't spotted. He caught sight of a few things—a statue of a Grundal, which made him smirk a little. He'd be able to defeat the beast this time if he met one. Quickly he peered at the plate, struggling to read it. His eyes widened a bit when he caught the word 'extinct'. Had things really changed that much? How long had he been gone?

But suddenly, he stopped wondering. As he'd looked up, he caught sight of a flash of green. Morro's eyes went wide and he walked around the Grundal statue, trembling a little bit. There, just behind it and against one of the walls, was a statue of two figures. One a massive, dark dragon. The other a ninja, dressed in a green gi. Shaking, the ghost approached it.

Stopping a foot away, he read the plate. It was titled, _The Green Ninja Defeats the Overlord_.

His legs felt weak and he sunk to his knees, one hand resting on the plaque. He felt weak and shaky, and fought hard to keep from sobbing.

So, Wu had chosen someone else to be the green ninja. After Morro had left, he'd simply moved on. The ghost had known that for awhile, but it stung to have it confirmed.

Shaking, he looked up at the statues, then at the plaque, then down again, closing his eyes as he felt the burn of tears.

"How could you have forgotten me like this?" he choked out in a whisper.

Morro remained there for awhile, and his anguish began to turn to anger, which grew and festered in him until he finally rose to his feet, fists clenched at his sides.

Wu had forgotten him. He'd given up on him. He'd stopped caring... and instead, he'd just picked someone else. Morro had promised he would be the green ninja, he'd promised he would come back... and yet Wu had moved on and chosen another one to be the green ninja. He'd never even tried to look for Morro. This betrayal hurt worse than any Morro had ever felt before.

If that was the way it would be... Morro would destroy Wu like Wu had destroyed him. He would rip away everything precious to him—his world, and his beloved green ninja student. He would make sure that Wu remembered who the true green ninja was meant to be. He would keep the promise he made... and Wu would suffer for what he'd done. For just forgetting Morro like he had.

The sounds of footsteps approached and Morro ducked behind one of the statues. Yes, Wu would suffer. And as a man in a uniform, carrying a flashlight, rounded the corner, a wicked grin stretched across his features. And Morro knew just where to start.

-o-o-o-o-o-

 _~Fin_

 **AUTHOR's NOTE: And here it is, the end of this story! I hope you enjoyed reading it. Please leave a review, check out my other fics, and stay tuned for the sequel, whose first chapter should be up within the next few days. It will be titled "Morro's Path - Redemption." Also, check out my young writers' community at cityofrefuge . jcink . net, a brand new forum I'm trying to get off the ground.**

 **Happy reading and writing, and I'll see you soon for some more pain!**

 **-Kyrie**


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